A Series of Very Weird Events
by Libert
Summary: This is a story about strange occurences, a story about change and mystery, a story about love and tragedy, and, most of all it is a story about what a nice version of Draco Malfoy would be like and what a bad version of Harry Potter would be like.
1. Part 1

A Series of Very Weird Events

Part 1:

Harry Potter was concerned. He had known Draco Malfoy was up to something all week, due to his aggressive, whispered conversations with Snape in the hallways, which came to an abrupt end whenever Harry or one of his friends came into sight, and the way he seemed to go off at Crabbe and Goyle every time Harry saw them. He was concerned. Malfoy was bad enough on a good day, but it was safe to say that grumpy Malfoy would be worse, and Malfoy had been grumpy all week. He had been expecting something from him, something bad. He was up to something, Harry was sure of it. He had spoken to Ginny, Hermione and Ron about it, and although they agreed that Malfoy was acting quite strange this week, none of them seemed to think that this was something to be concerned about.

"Harry," Hermione had said, "Malfoy always acts strange, you know that."

"Yeah, Harry," Ron agreed, "there's nothing odd about that. Well...there is, but that's just the way he is, innit?"

Finally, Harry had been outnumbered and forced to leave the subject. He had assured them that he agreed, there was nothing to worry about, but he still had a bad feeling about this. Malfoy was up to something, he just knew it. He had no idea what it was, but it had to be something, it just had to be! Something was going to happen, and he had a feeling Snape was involved, what with the way he kept seeing them in abandoned hallways, whispering aggressively at one another, and then suddenly stopping when they realized that someone else was in the room. He had tried following them under his invisibility cloak a few times, but it was almost like they knew he was there, because Snape always looked around with a sceptical look on his face, and then told Draco to go back to the Slytherin common-room. Disgruntled, Draco would obey, and that would leave Harry with as many questions as he'd started out with, if not more. Finally, Harry decided to take action and find out what on earth was going on.

It was a Saturday in September, the sun was shining, birds were singing in the treetops and being beaten to death by the Womping Willow, and just about everyone was outside, enjoying the day. Everyone except Harry, that is. Harry had woken up that morning with a feeling that today was the day; this was when Draco was going to make his move, and Harry was determined to stop him. He waited until after breakfast, giving himself enough time to come up with some good arguments to persuade Dumbledore that something actually was wrong, and that Draco really was up to something. He marched through the halls, muttering his arguments on the way to perfect them, and had almost reached the gargoyle he knew guarded the staircase up to Dumbledore's office, when suddenly that hidden door opened, and out stepped the one person Harry had not expected to see. Draco Malfoy, followed by the headmaster himself, who was currently resting a hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco was smiling up at the headmaster, and as they exited the office, he could just hear Dumbledore speaking the words:

"I'm sure we can arrange something, Draco. Come back tomorrow, and we'll have it all set up."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, watching the sight before him with large, amazed eyes. Malfoy...in Dumbledore's office? Why was he smiling at Dumbledore? What on earth was that creep up to? It had to be a conspiracy, a conspiracy to gain Dumbledore's trust and then betray him, just when he expected it the least. Harry realized that he was gaping, and so he shut his mouth. He had to have made a sound, for at that moment, both Dumbledore and Malfoy turned they heads towards him, and did something Harry would never have suspected.

They smiled.

Seeing Dumbledore smile at him wasn't a new experience for Harry, and so that wasn't the strange bit. The strange bit was that Draco smiled with him. Draco was smiling at him! Draco, his enemy at this school, was smiling at Harry. It had to be a fake one, one he put on just to show Dumbledore what a good boy he was, and how he could be trusted. Harry could feel the anger building up inside him. The nerve! Planning to betray Dumbledore like that, and using him, Harry, as a pawn! Harry started marching forward, feeling like he could nearly explode with anger, but lowered his pace when he got a closer look at Draco's smile. That wasn't a fabricated smile, that was a real smile, a friendly smile. What on earth was going on?

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, "how good of you to join us! You know, I was quite hoping you would. Step into my office, Harry."

He took a step to the side, clearing the path for Harry, who stepped forth with small, insecure steps.

"And, Draco," Dumbledore suddenly continued, "I believe it would be best if you came, as well."

* * *

A little while later, they were in Dumbledore's office, all seated. Dumbledore was sitting on a chair behind his desk, looking from Harry to Draco and back again with a knowing smile on his face. Draco was sitting on a chair on the other side of the desk, returning Dumbledore's smile whenever he looked at him, and otherwise smiling a friendly smile at Harry. Harry was sitting on a chair next to Draco, looking with confusion at both Draco and Dumbledore, before his gaze finally rested on Dumbledore, pleading for an explanation to what was going on.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore started, "I supposed you're wondering what's going on?"

Harry nodded quickly, eager to get an explanation from Dumbledore's lips, an explanation that would let him decide whether there really was a plot to betray Dumbledore, or if...well, Harry didn't know what else it could be, but whatever it was, it was freaky as hell. He glanced sideways at Draco for a moment, and was only able to catch a sight of his pearly-white teeth, smiling at him. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and tried focusing on Dumbledore, instead.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore continued, amusement apparent in his voice, "it seems we have a problem."

Finally, Dumbledore managed to get Harry's undivided attention, and he forgot all about Draco for a moment.

"We do?" he said, suddenly insecure. Dumbledore had a problem? With him? He started thinking about what he had been doing these last couple of days, if there was something he had done that might offend or annoy Dumbledore, or if he had broken any of the school's rules. Maybe he was being expelled? Maybe Draco was in on it! Maybe he had come up with loads of accusations towards Harry, and had made Dumbledore believe that he was guilty of a whole bunch of charges! And Dumbledore had believed him... How could Dumbledore believe him? How could he? He was supposed to be on Harry's side, wasn't he? He was supposed to be one of the good guys, and thus know that Harry was on his side, and was one of the good guys, as well? He had to know that Malfoy was lying, he just had to!

Suddenly, Dumbledore started chuckling.

"Oh, no, Harry," he said, between chuckles, "You and I do not have any problems. As far as I'm concerned, there is nothing wrong going on between us...unless there is something you wish to tell me?"

"No!" Harry immediately exclaimed, overcome by relief that Dumbledore wasn't angry with him for something, "No, nothing's wrong. Everything's good! Really good!"

Dumbledore kept chuckling, and this time, Draco joined in. Harry looked to his side and scowled at him, but Draco was too busy looking at Dumbledore and chuckling to notice, and so he gave up, and simply let them laugh.

"That's good, Harry," Dumbledore continued, "No, it is Draco who has the problem."

Harry was amazed. Had Draco, Snape's favourite student, come to Dumbledore with a problem. Now, Harry was even more confused. He could not, for the life of him, understand what was going on. If Draco had a problem, why didn't he just go to Snape? Or better yet, why didn't he just have his father throw some money at it to make it go away? That was what he usually did, so why didn't he do that now? It had to be something serious, Harry concluded; something out of both Snape and Lucius Malfoy's hands, something only Dumbledore could fix. But what could that be? It had to be bad, really bad, and big, really big.

"Oh?" was all that Harry managed to say as a response.

"Yes," Dumbledore said and nodded, "It seems that our Draco, here," he gestured towards Draco, whose smile had now faded slightly, and seemed to have been replaced with something resembling shyness, "thinks that there might be a slight possibility that he might, just might, have been placed in the wrong House."

Harry sat there for a moment, staring into Professor Dumbledore's eyes with a blank look in his eyes, while his mind tried to process what had just been said. Every time he tried, however, he came up with the same conclusion: It simply could not be processed. Finally, he gave up his futile attempts and understanding what was going on, and posed the question he had wanted to pose ever since Dumbledore made his last statement.

"Excuse me?"

* * *

"He what!" Ron cried out as he, Harry, Hermione and Ginny sat in the Gryffindor common-room two hours later. Harry had fetched them from the garden, where they had been enjoying the sunny day, the second he got out of Dumbledore's office, and got away from Draco's friendly smile.

"Shush, Ron! Be quiet!" Harry said quietly yet firmly, and gave him a strict stare. They were the only people in the Gryffindor common-room, since everyone else was outside enjoying the day, but he still felt that they couldn't be too careful.

"Sorry," Ron said and lowered his voice, "He what?"

Harry could not help but chuckle a little at his words, having had enough time to process the news Dumbledore had given him to be able to react to other influences, as well.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione said and glared at him, "Haven't you been paying attention at all? Harry just said that Draco thinks he's been placed in the wrong House!"

She paused, and seemed to be considering the information she had just passed on to Ron.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she then said and turned to him, "but how is that possible?"

Harry smiled and shrugged at the same time.

"Apparently," he started, "he feels that the Slytherin ways are not his ways, and he wants to be placed in another House. He just doesn't think he's a Slytherin, any more."

"But, Harry," Ron interrupted, "the Sorting Hat placed him in Slytherin before McGonagall even had time to put the hat on his head!"

"I know!" Harry replied, "I think it's as strange as you do! I'm just telling you what he said!"

"So..." Ginny started, "What is Professor Dumbledore going to do about it?"

Harry paused and drew a deep breath, hesitating now that he finally got to what he had wanted to tell them all along.

"Well..." he hesitantly said, "Dumbledore is letting him get re-sorted."

"What!" Hermione, Ron and Ginny exclaimed simultaneously.

"Harry!" Hermione said, "How is that possible? The Sorting Hat's never been wrong before, so why should it be wrong this time! And with Draco, of all people! Everyone knows he's a Slytherin; he's probably the most obvious Slytherin since...You Know Who."

Harry sighed and buried his head in his hands.

"Look, guys, there's something I didn't tell you," he said and looked up at them.

"What?" Hermione immediately asked, "Harry, what is it?"

"It's about Draco. He's, well...he's...nice."

"What?"

Again, all three of them spoke at once, and they all stared at Harry with large, amazed eyes, like they were expecting him to have all the answers. He couldn't help but smile and chuckle a bit, even though he didn't really feel like it.

"I said, he's nice. He was smiling at me, and being friendly and polite, and well...nice."

"But, Harry," Hermione said in a no-nonsense way, "that could just as easily be an act! You know Draco, he simply can't be nice!"

"Yeah, Harry," Ron agreed, like he always did when Hermione said something, these days, "You can't actually think that Malfoy's nice after everything he's said and done. What, with him always making fun of Hagrid, and calling Hermione a Mugblood, and all..."

"Ron!" Hermione said, "Don't use that word!"

"Sorry, Hermione..." Ron said, lowering his head in disgrace. He'd been acting really odd lately, they both had. She'd been very touchy about everything Ron said - more than usual, that is - and he'd been agreeing with everything she said and watching his step around her. Harry wasn't sure if he liked it, but he didn't know if there was anything he could do about it, either.

"Anyway," Harry said, to get them back on the right track, "if Draco's acting, he's really good at it. I don't know if he is, though, but I suppose we'll all know tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Ginny said, confused, "What's happening tomorrow?"

Suddenly, all eyes were on Harry again. He sighed again, and looked from one to the other, taking in the view of their confused and eager faces.

"During dinner tomorrow, Draco is going to step up in front of the whole school and Professor McGonagall is going to put the Sorting Hat on his head again. He'll be re-sorted in front of the entire school."

They all sat there gaping and staring at him for a while after that, in total silence. Harry didn't want to be the one to break the silence, worrying that it might be too soon. It had taken him a while to process the whole thing, too. He could almost picture it, now; Draco Malfoy sitting on a chair in front of the entire school while McGonagall placed the hat on his head, once more. He almost found himself pitying the boy, but refused to let himself feel anything like pity for Draco Malfoy. His newfound kindness was probably just an act; a part of a bigger plot, and he wasn't going to fall for it. When Hermione spoke next, however, he realized that he might be alone in that opinion.

"Poor Draco..."

* * *

There was uneasiness about their small assembly when they sat at the dinner-table; silently expecting what they knew was to come. People had remarked upon their strange and silent behaviour that day, and upon how they seemed far less cheery than they usually were. Now, they were all sitting there in total silence, gaining the odd confused glance from one of their classmates, who still wondered what was wrong with the four of them. Harry had spent the better part of the evening looking from Ginny to Hermione to Ron for comfort, but every time his eyes landed on one of them, they were looking the other way, trying to get comfort from one of the other two. Now, he had decided to deal with it on his own, and was simply sitting there, nibbling at his food - as he didn't feel very hungry - in total silence. He looked to the front of the room. There was a chair placed in front of the teachers' table, and beside that a small table, which seemed to confuse the entire assembly, even the teachers. Not Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione, though. They knew what it was for. The table was for the Sorting Hat and the chair...Draco Malfoy. They could hardly believe it was actually going to happen. They could hardly believe Draco was actually going to subject himself to this. He was born to be Slytherin! How could he ask to be re-sorted? Again, Harry looked to his three friends for comfort, but noticed that they were all staring in the same direction, towards the front of the room. He quickly turned and looked the way they were looking, and saw that McGonagall had just carried out the Sorting Hat and placed it on the table, and that Dumbledore had just stood up. He cleared his throat, and the entire assembly became silent as all heads turned to see what was going on.

"Dear students of Hogwarts," Dumbledore started, and Harry held his breath. He could tell by the look on Ron's face that he was doing the same thing, "Today is a day unlike any other, a day of change and new experiences. Today, we will have a re-sorting."

Although Harry had expected the crowd to gasp and start arguing amongst themselves what this was all about, no such thing took place. Instead, the crowd broke into silent muttering, and Harry could many times distinguish the words "what's a re-sorting?" Dumbledore cleared his throat again, and kept on speaking.

"A student has come to me with the concern that he, for it is a he, might have been sorted into the wrong House. This has never happened before, but it does not surprise me that is has, since you students are in a growing state, and it is very likely that you will change as you grow. Apparently, that is what has happened, now. This student has asked to be sorted again, and for this, we have brought out the Sorting Hat once more this year. I will now ask the student in question to come up to the front, and be sorted."

Now, the gasp Harry had expected to come sooner finally broke loose, as Draco Malfoy stood up and started walking towards the front. He could hear Slytherins calling "Draco, what are you doing?" and he could see some of Draco's fellow Slytherins trying to make a grab for him and stop him from doing what he was doing, but Draco just kept on walking, oozing of determination with his head held high. Harry could hear a gasp beside him, and saw that it was Hermione, who was now covering her gaping mouth with her hand. He looked to the front, looked from one teacher to the other, and noticed that every face up there was filled with confusion and surprise. Well...almost every face. Snape, on the other hand, was staring angrily at Draco, following him with his eyes like he was willing him to turn back and sit back down at the Slytherin table. So this was what it had all been about? This was why they'd been whispering in the hallways, this was why Snape had seemed so agitated every time he spoke to Draco this past week? Harry couldn't help but smile a victorious smile at the sight of Snape's angry glare. Snape had lost his golden boy. What a pity.

Draco finally reached the chair at the front of the Great Hall, and he sat down, seemingly untouched by the loud mumbling that filled the room, and the amazed stares that had been following him ever since he stood up, and were still locked onto him now, as he sat in his chair. McGonagall stood beside him, looking out at the crowd, and then she cried out:

"Silence!"

The crowd was silent, and all eyes were on Draco, watching him with expectation oozing from their bodies. Harry heard Ron loudly releasing a breath of air he'd probably held since Dumbledore started talking, but he didn't react to it. All he wanted to hear now was the Hat's words. He studied both Draco and McGonagall closely, and noticed that McGonagall seemed insecure. So insecure, in fact, that she finally leaned down and whispered something into Draco's ear, to which he nodded in reply. Harry could only guess what she had said.

Finally, she took the hat in her hands, and moved it towards Draco's head. It seemed like an eternity passed before the hat was finally hanging over Draco's head, and that another eternity passed while McGonagall slowly lowered the hat onto his head. Everyone was quiet, not as much as a whisper was exchanged in the entire hall; everyone was too busy waiting for the Hat to pass its judgement. Harry could hear his heart beating, louder and louder, as he watched the Hat squirming in contemplation atop Draco's head. Maybe he really had changed? Maybe he wasn't a Slytherin anymore? Last time they'd tried this, the Hat had spoken before it had even been placed on his head, and now, it seemed to be thinking forever. Draco was looking up towards the hat, and he seemed to be whispering something to it, like Harry had done when he had been sorted. Harry couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside that head of his, and what the Hat was saying to him. Maybe they were arguing about whether Draco had changed or not? Maybe they were arguing about which House to place him in? Maybe they were just having a friendly conversation about the weather? In any case, all Harry wanted to hear was the name of a House, shouted out across the assembly. Where would the hat place him this time? Would it condemn him to be in Slytherin? Would it deem him wise and send him to Ravenclaw? Would it think him dependable and witty, and send him to Hufflepuff? Or maybe, just maybe, it would place him in... No, it couldn't be. It never would. Not Draco Malfoy. It wouldn't...would it?

It didn't.

"Slytherin!" it finally said, and relieved sighs broke out all around the hall, especially from the Slytherin table. Even Snape was smiling in a relieved manner, and Harry could not remember having ever seen Snape smiling in any way other than cruel. Hermione, Ron and Ginny turned to him, all three of them bearing expressions that seemed to scream "told you so", but then it happened; what no one had expected.

"No, wait..." the Hat suddenly shouted, and the crowd was suddenly silent again. All eyes were on Draco, who was looking just as confused as everyone else. Snape was mystified, it seemed, for he, of all people, was gaping. He shut his mouth mere seconds after it had opened, of course, but Harry would never forget the sight of Severus Snape gaping in amazement. Harry looked to his three friends again, but they were all looking away, all looking at Draco with giant eyes. And then the Hat spoke again, louder than before, more certain than before, and everyone knew it was final.

And this time, it did.

"Gryffindor!"

The Hat's familiar voice rang out across the Hall, and everyone gasped in amazement. A loud humming broke out, the sound of all the school's students speaking at once, as the Hat was lifted off of Draco's head. Draco himself had to do it, as McGonagall was staring at him in amazement. Even Dumbledore seemed amazed, and although Harry could imagine it was possible for him to be surprised, he had never expected anything to be able to amaze him. Harry's eyes travelled further down the line of teachers, past all the amazed expressions, and finally landed on Professor Snape. Harry wasn't sure he could describe that expression. He could use 'terror', but he felt it didn't even begin to describe the emotion displayed on Snape's face. He almost felt like laughing, but at the same time, he couldn't help but pity the poor man. Snape really had lost his golden boy, and what was worse, he had lost him to Gryffindor.

Draco was trying to hand the Hat back to McGonagall, but she didn't react. It was almost as though she'd been Petrified, the way she was standing there and not reacting to anything that was going on. Finally, Draco decided to simply put the Hat down on the small table beside the chair, and he stood up. He looked to Dumbledore for instructions, since McGonagall seemed to be completely frozen at this point, and realized, to his great relief, that Dumbledore was at least able to motion towards the Gryffindor table. Smiling, Draco stepped down from the rise in the floor, and walked briskly towards where Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were sitting. A seat was immediately cleared for him, and he sat down between Harry and Hermione. Harry could feel everyone staring at them, their eyes broad and their mouths at their knees, and he couldn't say he would have behaved any differently, had someone else been in his shoes. They were all looking at Draco, even Harry, when he suddenly turned towards him, grinning broadly.

"Well, isn't this just peachy?"

Draco looked from Harry to Hermione, from Hermione to Ron, and from Ron to Ginny, but when he saw that they were all gaping and staring at him, he directed his gaze towards the food lying before him, instead, and helped himself to a piece of chicken.

...to be continued 


	2. Part 2

**A Series of Very Weird Events **

Part 2:

Three days had passed since the re-sorting, and they were two of the oddest days Harry had ever experienced. Ever since Draco had become a member of Gryffindor House, everyone seemed to shy away from him, almost like they were worried that he was going to explode. Every time the owls arrived, they carried bucket-loads of letters filled with questions about Draco Malfoy's amazing transformation. Even Harry had received a few letters from the Weasleys, after Ron and the others had been unable to answer all of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's questions. Harry saw no other alternative than to inform them that he knew as little as everyone else. The amount of letters Harry and Ron received, however, was nothing compared to the amount of letters the owls handed to Draco every morning. Lucius Malfoy was not happy. Draco always got a sad look about him whenever he read his mail, and when someone, usually Hermione or Ginny, asked him what it was, all he answered was that the letters were from his father, and excused himself from the table. He said he wanted to be alone for a while, and so they let him. It wasn't like they were jumping through hoops to spend time with him as it was, anyway.

"Harry," Hermione said in a strict tone-of-voice one day when Draco had left the breakfast after receiving mail from his father, "You have to go talk to him."

Harry almost choked on his breakfast when she said it, and turned to her with a surprised look on his face.

"Me? Why me?"

"Because," she continued, sighing in a disappointed manner, "no one else wants to come near him, these days, and I don't think he'd be comfortable if it were Ginny or I who approached him."

Harry sighed. He knew she wouldn't let this go; when Hermione had her heart set on something, she was relentless in her manner of achieving it.

"But...why me? Why not Ron?"

"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed, "Ron's about as sensitive as a rock, Harry! You can't subject Draco to that! The poor boy's got it bad enough as it is!"

"Yeah, Harry," Ron said, grinning smartly at him, "I really think you should be the one to talk to him."

Harry glared at Ron, but he only smirked at him in return. He looked around at the three faces staring at him, and it suddenly became frightfully obvious that he had already lost this battle.

"Fine, fine," he said, releasing a disappointed sigh, "I'll do it."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said and hugged him, "I knew you would!"

* * *

"This is stupid," Harry muttered to himself as he walked up the stairs towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, "I don't even know where he is!"

The Fat Lady was trying scales when he finally arrived before her, and he listened to her for a few seconds, knowing that it was impossible to get through to her when she was singing, until his ears could no longer bear it.

"Is Draco in there?" he shouted, loud enough for the Fat Lady to hear it through all her screaming. She suddenly stopped singing and looked at him.

"What?" she said, smiling sweetly.

"I said, is Draco in there?"

He sighed and looked impatiently at her, tapping his foot against the stone floor beneath him as he waited for her reply.

"I can't tell you that without a password, my dear boy."

The Fat Lady half turned away from him, obviously having found his impatient behaviour to be very offensive, and Harry sighed from frustration.

"Fine: Neutiquam erro."

"He was here a little while ago, he should be inside," the Fat Lady said as she swung open, revealing the entrance behind her. As Harry crawled through the hole into the common-room, he could hear her starting her scales again, even more out of tune than before.

He walked inside and looked around. There was a fire in the fireplace, so the place was nice and warm. It was empty at first glance, but when he looked again, he could just see a head of platinum-blonde hair sticking up from the sofa facing the fire-place. His shoulders sagged in disappointment; he had found him. It was what he had set out to do, but he'd secretly been hoping that he wouldn't, just to avoid having to talk to him. He'd been acting so strange, lately... So incredibly...nice... It was weird, and Harry wasn't at all sure he liked it.

"Hi, Draco," he said, his nervous voice trembling slightly. He pulled himself together and walked forth towards the sofa Draco was sitting in, just as Draco sat up straight and turned to see who it was. He smiled at him when he saw it was Harry, and then turned back to the fireplace.

"Hi, Harry."

Harry hesitated when he was almost at the sofa, but he kept on walking, and was soon sitting on the sofa next to Draco, watching the fireplace. The five-page letter Draco had received at the breakfast-table that morning was lying on the table in front of the sofa, pages lying here and there, looking like someone had tossed it there in frustration.

"So..." Harry started, hesitantly, "I see you got a letter..."

"Yeah," Draco immediately answered, "It's from my father."

"Oh," Harry said, and was silent again. He sat there staring into the flames for a while, wondering if it would soon be the right time to speak again. He was just about to ask about it when Draco spoke again, effortlessly breaking the silence.

"Hermione sent you?" he asked, but he didn't look at Harry. Harry glanced shortly at him, but he didn't want to look at him any more, since Draco was staring right ahead.

"No...no! I came on my own accord. I just wanted to see..." Harry paused, searching for the right words to finish his sentence, "if you were alright."

"I am," Draco said and smiled, while still staring right ahead, into the fire. Harry joined him in his staring for a while, unsure of what to say.

"So...the letter's from your father, then? What...What's he saying?" Harry glanced towards the letter, feeling an intolerable urge to just make a grab for it and then run off to read it.

"It's all right, Harry," Draco quickly answered and looked toward Harry, "You don't have to. I know Hermione sent you." He looked away again, back into the fire.

"Alright," Harry answered, bringing his gaze to rest on Draco, "so Hermione sent me, but I'm asking because I want to know. We all want to know."

Draco turned towards him and smiled, and Harry thought he could see something resembling gratitude in his eyes.

"Thanks, Harry," he said after a few seconds, and then looked back at the fire, "But I don't really want everyone to know. Not what he's saying."

"Why," Harry immediately asked, "What is he saying?"

Draco sighed, and Harry could tell he wasn't looking forward to telling him, at the same time as he probably wanted to.

"Well..." Draco started, obviously hesitating, "he's...well, he's threatening to...disown me. He says I'm no son of his, if I'm in Gryffindor. I can't really blame him; people in my family have been Slytherins as far back as we have records of, and father always counted on me getting sorted into Slytherin House. I think it makes it worse that I got sorted into Slytherin to begin with, but then asked to be... I think I've really disappointed him."

Harry could tell from the look on Draco's face that he really felt bad about this, and he couldn't help but feel bad for him, in return. He'd always had the impression that Draco really wanted his father to be proud of him, and to have his father threaten to throw him out of the family... Well, it certainly couldn't be easy. He looked down at the letter for a little while, picturing what Lucius Malfoy might have written in it, what hurtful words he might have used to describe his disappointment in his son, what he had asked from Draco in return for letting him stay in the family. Harry couldn't even begin to understand what he was going through...

"You know what," he finally said, "you're his son, and if he can't find it in him to accept you for who you are, then...then...sod him! You're his son, and he's bound to come around, sometime. I'm sure he just needs a little while to get used to it, that's all. He'll come around, Draco. Mark my words, he'll come around."

Draco laughed a bit as Harry spoke, and it looked as though some of his spirit had been restored.

"Thanks, Harry. And thank Hermione for me, will you?" Draco suddenly said, and Harry furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Hermione? What would you thank her for?" he asked, puzzled beyond belief.

"Well," Draco said and turned towards him, "she sent you here, didn't she? And for that, I thank her." He smiled at Harry and turned back to the fire, still smiling. After a short pause, he added as an afterthought; "I'll have to apologize to her for the way I've treated her, one of these days. Will you remind me to do that, Harry?"

Draco turned towards him again, and Harry nodded, still puzzled by this change of topic.

"She's nice, isn't she? Hermione, I mean. She's nice. And clever. Isn't she?"

Harry nodded again, and uttered a few distorted sounds, unable to make any kind of spoken reply. He never thought he'd see the day when Draco Malfoy said something positive about Hermione Granger, and now it had come. Here they were, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, sitting next to each other, speaking civilized to one another, and of all things to talk about, they were talking about Hermione Granger and how nice she was. Harry's instinct for when something odd was happening finally kicked in again. This was just too much. Draco and Lucius Malfoy were arguing, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were on friendly terms, and Draco Malfoy was complimenting Hermione Granger. Something strange was happening. Harry had shut his eyes to it for a while, but now it suddenly hit him in the face. Something was wrong. As he came to this conclusion, Draco kept on talking and smiling to himself.

"She is nice. I think I quite like her. And Ron and you, of course. And I really like Ginny, too. I don't know why I didn't, before. It probably had something to do with my being a Slytherin."

'Or maybe it had something with your being an evil sod!' Harry could hear his mind screaming to him, but he didn't say anything. He just smiled and nodded, smiled and nodded. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know how to respond to this. He had just now realized that something was frightfully wrong, here. Not only was Draco behaving in a civilized manner, which wouldn't have been that much to frown about; he was acting in a creepy civilized manner. He was just too nice! He'd even forgiven his father for threatening to disown him! The old Draco would never have stood for anything like that. The old Draco would have gone mad with rage and taken it out on everyone around him. He wouldn't keep acting civilized towards everyone, and he certainly wouldn't smile as much as he did. Harry found himself staring at Draco with a puzzled look in his eyes, which he fought to hide as Draco turned towards him once again, grinning broadly.

"Let's go downstairs and find the others, shall we? I'd quite like to do something...fun!"

As Draco Malfoy jumped out of the sofa, took the letter from his father and threw it in the fireplace, before darting off towards the exit, Harry's suspicions that something was frightfully wrong only grew stronger. Something strange was going on, and he had no idea what it was, but one thing was for sure: He was going to find out.

* * *

Convincing the others that something was wrong with Draco proved to be a little harder than he had expected. He hadn't expected it to be too hard, since Draco had been their nemesis since they started at school, but after just a few days of knowing the nice Draco, everyone was convinced that he was a complete angel, and that this was just a side of him that hadn't had the opportunity to get out before. Hermione and Ginny were worse, and were spending just about every second of every day with the latest member of Gryffindor House, which meant that Harry had to spend time with him, as well, if he wanted to see Hermione and Ginny at all. Ron was almost as bad, and Harry had often seen him and Draco laughing and having a good time, but when he tried to join in, they suddenly went quiet. It was at its worst at nights, when they had all retired to the dormitories to sleep. There weren't enough beds, anymore, and so Draco had to sleep on a mattress on the floor between Ron's bed and Harry's bed. Harry hadn't thought too much of it until one night, when it suddenly dawned on him that Draco was constantly the centre of attention, and that everyone seemed to have almost fallen in love with him. Harry did not know what was going on, but he realized now that he preferred the old Draco to the new Draco. Things, however, were about to get a whole lot weirder.

It was a Monday night, and the Gryffindor common-room was completely full, even though it was really late. Draco was the centre of attention, as usual, and he was telling amusing stories that made everyone else roll around laughing. Everyone but Harry. He was sitting on the floor in front of the sofa where Ginny, Ron and Hermione were sitting, and he was listening to Draco's story. Just as it peaked, everyone around him, especially Hermione, Ginny and Ron, started laughing uncontrollably, and Draco smiled at them all. Harry looked behind him at his three best friends' faces, and realized that they were all smiling at Draco, like they once smiled at him. But Draco...Draco only had eyes for Ginny. They were looking each other right into the eyes, smiling at each other, laughing with each other... Suddenly, Harry got the distinct feeling that he didn't belong. He simply did not belong here, anymore. He got up and walked away from them, not attracting as much as a glance as he did so, and quickly exited the room. He crawled through the exit, pushed open the Fat Lady and walked away, not really sure of where he was going. His face was blank, his body was weak, but he kept on walking, almost marching, down a path he had walked many times before. He realized when he had got halfway that he was heading for Dumbledore's office. At least he had been heading for Dumbledore's office, until something stopped him.

"Potter!" a voice said, and he recognized it instantly.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," he answered and turned to where the voice had come from. All he could see at first was the light cast from a lit wand, and he did not notice until now that he'd been walking in complete darkness. As the light got closer, he could more clearly make out the shape carrying it, until he could at last see that it was Snape who was striding towards him, looking as serious and sadistic as he always did, with his black cloak flapping around him.

"Out taking a midnight stroll, Potter? Need I remind you that students are not to be outside their Houses at this time of night?" he said, and Harry thought he could detect just a faint glimmer of a cruel smile on his indifferent features.

"I am sorry, Professor. I was going to see Professor Dumbledore."

Suddenly, Snape's countenance changed completely, from being angry and cruel, to being interested and somewhat surprised.

"Oh, really? And what, pray tell, would you possibly want to bother the Headmaster with at this hour?"

Harry looked up at him, his face as blank as when he'd left the Gryffindor common-room just a few minutes earlier. Was he actually going to say this? Was he actually going to do this? He even surprised himself when he finally opened his mouth to speak, and those words leapt out, those words he thought he'd never speak.

"I think there might be a possibility that I have been placed in the wrong House, Professor."

Snape was quiet for a while as he studied Harry with a sceptical look across his face. Harry could feel himself getting a little annoyed at this delayed reaction of his, unless he was studying him because he doubted Harry's ability to tell the truth. In that case, it was even worse. As he stood there, he could almost feel himself getting more and more annoyed, and perhaps a bit offended, and he was just about to say something when the Professor again spoke.

"Follow me, Potter. I'll take you to him."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were all in Dumbledore's office. Harry was there, sitting on a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, Snape was there, standing behind and just a little to Harry's right, Dumbledore was there, sitting behind his desk, and Professor McGonagall was there, standing behind and just a little to Dumbledore's right. Professor Dumbledore had asked that Professor Snape fetched her after he'd heard what Harry wanted to talk to him about, and she had come running. Both McGonagall and Dumbledore were staring at Harry with concerned looks in their faces, and it seemed that both of them had a bit of trouble believing what Harry had just been telling them. Harry could feel that he was a little annoyed with all of this, since he was under the distinct impression that this had all been much simpler when Malfoy thought he was in the wrong House.

"I have to say, Harry, what you are saying concerns me," Dumbledore said after having heard Harry out, "You're saying you do not think you belong in Gryffindor anymore, and that you want to be re-sorted?"

"I think, Albus," Snape interrupted before Harry had a chance to reply, "that young Potter here has already made that clear."

Harry watched as the Headmaster and Professor Snape exchanged looks, staring into each other's eyes like two archenemies that had always been on each other's throats.

"I am only making sure, Severus," Dumbledore replied, and looked back towards Harry, "Are you sure about this, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry quickly answered, before anyone had the chance to cut in and interrupt him, "I am absolutely sure. I want to be re-sorted. As soon as possible, in fact."

Harry was tired of all of this. Draco had sat down with Dumbledore, and Dumbledore alone, and he had gotten his way without further ado, but when Harry asked the same, they needed to include both Snape and McGonagall. Luckily, it at least seemed like Professor Snape was on his side. McGonagall, on the other hand, was a different story altogether.

"Mr. Potter," she started, "are you sure that you want to do this, or might your desire to do this perhaps be due to Draco Malfoy's acceptance into Gryffindor House?"

This, it seemed, was the question on everyone's mind, because it seemed that everyone, even Professor Snape, were now watching him with expectation written all over their faces, waiting for his reply to this question, which just might determine whether they would let Harry be re-sorted or not.

"Who cares," Harry answered, "if Draco Malfoy decides to join the ranks of golden boys and play 'nice' all of a sudden. All I know is that I don't want to end up like that. I want to go places, I want to achieve things, and I don't think I'll do that if all I do is sit around the fireplace and tell cosy stories and sing songs."

When he stopped talking, he finally noticed that McGonagall was gaping at him, while Dumbledore was looking extremely calm. He looked up at Snape, who was smirking at McGonagall. Harry looked back towards Dumbledore and smiled a content smile, knowing that he had done something right.

"Very well, Harry," Dumbledore finally said, "We will arrange another re-sorting for tomorrow."

* * *

Everything seemed normal during dinner the next day. The food was good, everyone seemed happy and relaxed, and Draco, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were going on like they always did. Harry was sitting amongst them, eating his food in silence and boredom, trying his best not to listen to the foolish conversations around the Gryffindor table. He looked around, and his eyes landed on Snape, who nodded slightly at him. He nodded back, and then let his gaze travel on to the other tables. Everyone was acting normally, but he felt that the Slytherins were paying a bit more attention to him than usual. He hadn't told anyone about what was going to happen, but it became clear to him now that Snape might have told his House of some of last night's events. He turned back to his food and took another bite. All of a sudden, the snapping of Dumbledore's fingers could be heard, and everyone gasped at the sight that met them when they turned to see what was going on. Harry turned around and looked where everyone else was looking, and saw that they were looking at a chair that had suddenly appeared before the teachers' table, next to a small table bearing the Sorting Hat. Harry again looked to Snape, who nodded slightly. So this was it, was it? This was the time? Professor McGonagall rose from her seat and walked calmly to the chair's location, gazing silently out across the assembly of students. The room was suddenly filled with the eager whispers of anxious students, who were looking from this side to that, wondering who was going to be sorted this time. Most eyes landed on Draco; in fact, all eyes landed on Draco, but he made it very clear that he wasn't the one, today, so everyone went back to looking at one another. Everyone, that is, except the Slytherins, who merely continued with their meal, and occasionally glanced up at Harry. Obviously, they knew what was going on.

Finally, Dumbledore stood up, and all the anxious whispering that had filled the room just a little while earlier died away, and all eyes were on Dumbledore. It was time. Dumbledore let his gaze travel across the assembly of students. Harry noticed that his eyes seemed to linger with him for a moment, before he let his eyes travel further down the ranks of students. At last, he addressed the assembly.

"Dear students of Hogwarts, it is my regret to have to inform you that one more of your fellow students believes that he has been placed in the wrong House, and wishes to be re-sorted," Harry could hear the whispering erupt once more; it was a he again? What was wrong with the boys of Hogwarts, these days? "Under the circumstances, I see no other alternative than to re-sort him as soon as possible, and hope that this will be the last time we will experience this."

Dumbledore paused and let his eyes travel across the assembly once more, and then let his eyes rest on Harry, almost like he was willing Harry to give him some sign that he had changed his mind, and wanted to stay in Gryffindor. Harry looked away, and focused instead on Snape, who was, at this time, smirking slightly in McGonagall's direction. He'd been doing a lot of that, today...

Finally, Dumbledore realized that there was no way Harry would change his mind, and, releasing an inaudible sigh, he addressed the assembly again, this time focusing on Harry, and Harry alone.

"Harry Potter, will you please step forth?"

Harry was almost delighted to hear that the gasp that travelled through the crowd was louder and more powerful than when Draco had gone through this, and so he couldn't help but smile, if only slightly, when he rose from his seat and walked slowly towards the chair at the front of the Hall.

"Harry?" he could hear Hermione saying as he passed, but he ignored her and kept on walking, determined to do this and get re-sorted. Ron made a grab for him, but missed and had to give up. All around him, pleas for him to stop could be heard, but he ignored them all with great ease, focusing all the time at the chair up ahead. For just a moment, he glanced towards Snape, who seemed to be cheering him on. He nodded towards him, encouraging him to continue, and Harry nodded back. He was going to do this. Snape could be sure of that.

Finally, he reached the chair, and he sat down, looking out across the assembly at all the amazed faces. McGonagall leaned down to his side, and whispered softly in his ear.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

Harry nodded, discarding her without effort, and gestured for her to get a move on. She stood up straight again, and from the corner of his eye he could see her lifting the Hat, moving it towards him, closer and closer, until it was over his head and he could no longer see it. The crowd held its breath, he could see they were holding their breath, and so he knew the Hat was approaching his head. Finally, he felt it, landing gently atop his head.

"So..." he heard it saying, "back again? I've never been wrong, you know."

"You were wrong about Malfoy," he answered, nonchalantly.

"Oh, yes...I forgot about him. What an odd coincidence that it should be you two who doubt my decision. It has never happened before, you know."

"I know," Harry answered, impatiently, "now sort me."

"So impatient!" the Hat exclaimed, "Well, if you demand it..." it paused, and Harry wondered if he should ask what on earth it was doing, but then it spoke again, "Hmm...I see... I said you would do well in Slytherin, you remember, but you chose Gryffindor. You yourself chose Gryffindor. You begged me not to place you in Slytherin, you know. You begged!"

"I was wrong. I don't belong in Gryffindor," he answered, feeling hundreds of eyes looking at him in bewilderment.

"How do you know?" the Hat asked, and Harry was at a loss. How did he know? He wasn't sure. He honestly wasn't sure.

"I just do," he answered, angrily, "Are you ever going to sort me?"

"I see, I see..." the Hat said, "No, it's very obvious where you belong. I know just what to do with you."

The Hat was silent for a moment, and Harry listened for his judgement. But the Hat remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Why wasn't it saying anything? He said he knew, so why wasn't he telling him? His mind was demanding that it tell him, but the rest of him was silent, waiting for the Hat's decision.

"Slytherin!"

He wasn't sure if he'd expected it once he heard it. The crowd gasped, even McGonagall gasped, and he even thought Dumbledore might have gasped. He turned and looked to his side, where Professor Snape was now smiling, almost grinning. The second he saw Harry was looking, his smile faded, of course, and instead of a smile, he got another nod, one that clearly stated that he approved, and Harry smiled. The Slytherin table started chanting "We got potter, we got Potter," and Harry turned to them and smiled again, proudly and with satisfaction, before he lifted the Hat from his own head - expecting McGonagall to be too disappointed to do so, herself - and placed it on the table beside him. He stood up and quickly made his way down from the rise in the floor, marching steadily towards the Slytherin table with a smile across his face, where he was welcomed with open arms. Crabbe and Goyle cleared a seat for him between the two of them, and Harry sat down, greeting his new House-mates with pleasure.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Harry," one of the other boys said to him, smiling.

"It's good to be here," Harry answered, and helped himself to a piece of chicken.

...to be continued


	3. Part 3

**A Series of Very Weird Events**

_Part 3:_

Harry woke up in the middle of the night and sat upright within a matter of seconds. He looked around, almost panicky, having the distinct feeling that something was horribly wrong. He looked around, and saw Crabbe sleeping in the bed to his right, and Goyle sleeping in the bed to his left. They'd tried giving him Draco's old bed, but he'd made Goyle trade beds with him so he didn't have to sleep in the old bed of a Slytherin backstabber. Of course, Goyle hadn't objected. But now he was up, suddenly feeling extremely out-of-place. He got up and paced out of the room, and walked into the Slytherin common-room. It was bigger than the Gryffindor common-room, wasn't it? Of course it was. And better. The fire in the fireplace burned more vibrantly, here, as well. It was better here, he felt more at home, here. He sat down in one of the chairs, which had been deemed Harry's chair the second he walked into the room for the very first time, and stared into the fire. It was better here. He knew it was. This was the way it was intended to be. He yawned and stretched, trying to wake up. He didn't know why, but he didn't feel like sleeping. It probably had something to do with Quidditch practice, tomorrow. Draco had been the Slytherin seeker, and they'd been missing one person ever since he left. They'd announced that Harry was their new seeker the second he had been placed in Slytherin. They'd been worried, before, because they had a game coming up with Gryffindor the next month, and they had been worried they'd have to forfeit.

Harry had solved that problem.

He must have dozed off for a while, because he could have sworn the flames were bigger when he last checked, and that there had been more firewood in there. He furrowed his brow and studied it for a while, before he sat up straight and stretched again. He had to have dozed off. He only felt like this after he'd slept. Suddenly, he became aware of that there was a sound of someone sobbing in the room. Confused, he looked around, until his eyes finally rested on the small, shivering body of Dobby.

"Dobby?" he said and stood up, stepping towards the sobbing house elf, "Dobby, what are you doing here?"

"Dobby came to see Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said and looked up, his sobbing coming to an abrupt halt as he stood up and looked into Harry's eyes, "Dobby came to tell Harry Potter to go back to Gryffindor, sir! Harry Potter is a good Master, sir, he doesn't belong in Slytherin! Draco Malfoy is a bad Master; he should be in Slytherin, not in Gryffindor, sir!"

Dobby suddenly whimpered and started beating himself over the head, ordering himself not to speak badly about his master again. Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, please, Dobby; give it a rest. You don't even work for them, anymore. It's stupid to keep punishing yourself when you don't even work for them. Mind you, I never said house elves were very smart, anyway."

Dobby stared up at Harry with large, astonished eyes.

"But...but...Harry Potter has never spoken badly of Dobby, sir..." he said, looking up at him with tears in his eyes, "Doesn't Harry Potter like Dobby, anymore, sir?"

Again, Harry rolled his eyes before he turned his back on Dobby and returned to his chair. It was a very comfortable chair. He already liked it better than his chair in the Gryffindor common-room.

"Get a grip, Dobby," he said, before he added, as an afterthought: "And stop referring to yourself in the third person! It's annoying."

Dobby gasped from shock and covered his mouth with both his hands. Harry had never before noticed what a drama-queen that house elf was, especially since he - or rather it - was only a servant, and couldn't help but roll his eyes again.

"Go away, Dobby. You're getting on my nerves, and I was trying to enjoy myself, here."

Dobby broke out in tears again, and sat down on the floor, sobbing loudly. Harry nearly growled with aggravation, before he threw a pillow in Dobby's direction. He missed, something he immediately regretted.

"Go away before I throw you into the fire," Harry said to the sobbing house elf. Howling, Dobby snapped his fingers and vanished into thin air. Harry smirked and looked back into the fire, quite pleased with himself. But suddenly, it hit him. That strange feeling he'd had earlier, the feeling that something was frightfully, frightfully wrong.

* * *

He woke up in his bed the following morning to the sound of Crabbe and Goyle arguing about something. He rolled over to his side, moaning quietly, before he swung his feet off the side of the bed and stood up. Crabbe and Goyle kept arguing, apparently not even noticing that Harry was up.

"Will you two shut up?" he said after a short while of listening to their nagging. Immediately, the two boys stopped arguing and turned towards Harry. He looked them over, and instantly got disappointed. Were these two supposed to be his closest circle? What a joke. But it was a good joke, at least. "What's happening, today?" he asked as he produced his robes from a drawer and started changing.

"Potions with Snape, Harry," Crabbe said, "and then we have Care of Magical Creatures."

"Care of Magical Creatures? What a waste of time."

Immediately after he'd said it, Harry felt that something had gone wrong, that something had happened that really shouldn't have happened, but he didn't understand what it could be. He found that he was furrowing his brow in confusion, and so he shook his head to snap out of it.

"What is it, Harry?" Goyle asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Nothing. I just... Nothing."

He put on the last of his robes and looked down at the Slytherin insignia on his cloak. He suddenly felt proud that he was carrying the snake, the greatest animal of all. The Gryffindor lion might appear to be strong and proud, but the Slytherin snake could easily sneak up behind the lion and bite him in the leg, filling him with all sorts of venoms. A lion would never stand a chance against a snake; he was sure of it.

He turned to Crabbe and Goyle again, looking them over to see if they were presentable. He didn't want to spend his first day as a Slytherin walking around with two hobos. After a little while, he decided that they looked good enough; presentable, yet not better than him, and so he nodded approvingly at them, which seemed to be exactly what they were waiting for. He turned away from them and walked towards the door, with Crabbe and Goyle following right behind, but suddenly he stopped.

"Crabbe?" he said in a disappointed tone of voice.

"Yes, Harry?" Crabbe answered, sounding almost nervous.

"My books?"

"Oh!" Crabbe exclaimed and ran back into the room, soon returning with Harry's books.

"Good boy," Harry said, before he continued out the door and set a course for the Potions classroom.

* * *

Harry and his gang were some of the last to arrive to Potions class, but they were still before Draco, Hermione and Ron, and were already seated and comfortable when they got there. Harry sat next to Crabbe, while Goyle had chosen a seat on the bench behind them. Draco, Hermione and Ron ran into the classroom, and Draco and Ron chose the bench beside Harry and Crabbe. Harry could feel Ron's eyes on him, watching him with a kind of sombre quality to them. Hermione stopped beside Harry's bench and looked at him, her eyes saddened as well.

"Hi, Harry... How are you?"

Harry looked up at her with a sceptical look in his eyes.

"What's it to you?"

Hermione gaped, but quickly shut her mouth. Her saddened expression seemed to have grown more sad, and Harry felt a surge of pride going through his body.

"Harry?" Hermione suddenly said, and reached out a hand towards his head. She held a lock of his hair between her thumb and index-finger, studying the lock with a confused look in her eyes. Harry quickly pulled away, almost like he couldn't stand to have her touching him.

"What do you want?" he said in an annoyed fashion.

"You..." she started, but hesitated, "You have...you have a blonde streak in your hair."

She tried touching his hair again, but her hand was quickly beaten off by an annoyed Harry.

"Don't touch me!" he exclaimed and pushed her away, immediately noticing that that strange sensation he'd been experiencing lately was back. Hermione backed away, looking positively hurt, before she turned from him and walked to her bench, sitting down next to Parvati Patil. He watched them for a while, watched Hermione say something to Parvati, and then watched as Parvati turned to him and glared fiercely at him, to which he responded by furrowing his brow in an amused manner. He turned to Crabbe, who was smiling as well, and shook his head.

"Stupid Gryffindors," he whispered, before a loud bang at the back of the classroom made everyone turn in surprise. Some of the girls gasped and almost screamed, and Harry immediately noticed that Draco did the same, but Harry was completely relaxed. The loud bang at the door, the violent opening that nearly sent the door off its hinges, was a sure sign that the Potions Master had arrived, and if you didn't keep your mouth shut now, you were in trouble.

"Open your books at page 247, Chapter 13," Snape said as he strode towards the front, and the class obeyed, "Personovo Potion is a powerful remedy which will, if digested, allow two people to switch personalities. In its concentrated state, the Personovo Potion can be lethal, and must therefore be inserted into something edible. If the concentration of the Personovo Potion is more than 27 percent, it is illegal, as a strong enough Personovo Potion could lead to full transformation and also cause severe harm to the individuals concerned. Today we will be brewing a mild version of the potion, which will allow you to adopt some of your partner's personality traits for five to ten minutes. We will-" Snape stopped suddenly, and looked as though something had just occurred to him. With a flick of his hand, all the books slammed shut, and a startled yelp came from the Gryffindor side of the classroom, where Ron was cradling his hand that had been resting on the book as it slammed shut.

"Bloody sodding hell!" he exclaimed, and suddenly noticed that everyone was staring at him. Snape was looking at him with a sour expression in his face, one that Ron dreaded more than anything.

"Five points from Gryffindor for foul language," he said, his voice calm and steady, "This lesson is over," he continued, "Get out," he turned and started walking towards the door leading into the Potions storage room, when he suddenly stopped and added as an afterthought, "Now." He gave the class a sour look which made the entire class scramble for their books, eager to get out as soon as possible, before he again started walking towards the door. Only Hermione didn't move.

"But Professor, we've only been here a few minutes!" she said, her hand reaching eagerly into the air, and Snape stopped walking again.

"Five more points from Gryffindor for being outright annoying," Snape said and started walking. Harry broke out in laughter, and was soon joined by Crabbe and Goyle. Snape stopped again, and slowly turned around to look at Harry with an astounded expression in his face.

"Potter, you are excused," he said before turning from him and walking briskly into the Potions storage room. Harry frowned at his retreating back, before he slid his book over to Crabbe and stood up.

"Get my books," he said in a sour tone-of-voice, "we're leaving." It was the last thing he said before he strode out the door, soon to be joined by Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione remained, opening her book at Chapter 13 again, and reading a few lines, before she all of a sudden gasped and slammed the book shut.

"Of course," she whispered and started gathering all her things, before she got up and sprinted towards the door, while she cried out a loud: "Ron!

* * *

He walked together with the other Slytherins down to Hagrid's cottage, making his opinion about this class clear with every step they took.

"It's a waste of time, going down to that goon's house, like this," he said as they approached, but lowered his voice when he noticed that Hagrid was outside. The Gryffindor bunch had already arrived, and was standing around him like keen puppies. Harry snorted with amusement, but hid his laughter when they arrived to where they were standing.

"Well, now," Hagrid started, "now that you're all here, I can start. I have something really special for you guys, today! It's a real beauty!"

Most of the class got worried frowns, as they all knew perfectly well that Hagrid's perception of beauty was somewhat different from other people's. Hagrid darted back inside the cottage, and soon came outside with a medium-sized box. He set it down on a home-made table he'd carried outside for this purpose alone, before he carefully removed the lid. A giant spider, larger than Hagrid's hand, popped out and scowled at the watching students. Ron's whimpering could be heard over the gasps of amazed students, and Harry saw both Draco and Ron backing away.

"Is that it?" he said, laughing at the sight of the spider, "That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen!"

All the other Slytherins laughed along with Harry, who was pointing at the thing and saying how "utterly ridiculous" it looked. Suddenly, the spider pounced and landed on Harry's chest. Harry jumped, but didn't react fast enough, because by the time he'd gathered his senses enough to do anything, the spider had sunk its fang into Harry's shoulder.

"Ow! Bloody animal!" Harry screamed and brushed it off onto the ground, pulling his wand from his pocket and directing it at the spider. He was about to say the incantation when Hermione suddenly leapt forth.

"Harry, no!" she yelled and pushed his hand out of the way, giving the spider enough time to dart away into the forest. Harry quickly backed away with disgust in his eyes.

"Get your hands off me, you filthy Mudblood!" he exclaimed, and the entire crowd was suddenly quiet. Hermione looked into Harry's eyes with a hurt expression across her face and tears welding up in her eyes. Ron jumped forth with his fists up, shouting a cry of rage at Harry while he pounced at him.

"Ron, don't!" Hermione said and grabbed hold of him, stopping him before he reached Harry, "Remember what I told you!"

"I don't care!" Ron screamed, "He deserves a punch in the nose!"

Hagrid stepped out of the crowd and placed himself between Hermione and Ron and Harry.

"Harry! How could you say something like that to our Hermione?" he looked down at Harry with disappointment written all over his face, but Harry merely scowled up at him in return.

"What do you care, you ignorant oaf?" he shouted, and Hagrid nearly gasped. He could see him struggling to keep a straight face and not turn away, he could see him struggling with his hurt expression, and he felt good. He felt proud. Everyone around him was staring at him in astonishment, yet he merely stood there, glaring up at Hagrid, who in the end looked away, and instead focused on Crabbe and Goyle.

"You two: get him to Madam Pomfrey's so she can tend to that bite," his voice was shaking, and it was easy to hear that he was fighting with the tears that so eagerly wanted to escape. Harry smirked as Crabbe and Goyle nudged at him to tell him to follow them, and then he turned away and started up the trail leading up to the castle. "And the rest of you," Hagrid continued when they were well away, "class is dismissed, so you might as well go back to the castle." As the rest of the students walked up to the castle, Hermione came to Hagrid's side and put a compassionate hand on his arm.

"It's alright, Hagrid. It wasn't Harry saying those things. Come on, I'll explain it to you," she tugged at Hagrid's arm, and he obediently followed her and Ron into the cottage.

* * *

When they got halfway to Madam Pomfrey's, Harry suddenly collapsed, and Crabbe and Goyle were forced to carry him the rest of the way. When they arrived at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey nearly screamed of shock. Harry's face had turned completely white, and he was shivering violently in the arms of his two friends. She had them place him in a bed while they told her what had happened, and once she had the full story, she darted into the back and retrieved some medicine she assured them would help.

"Spider bites are tricky," she said, "What was Hagrid thinking, bringing that thing to class? Here, dear, drink this," she poured some kind of liquid down Harry's throat, something he nearly choked on as it slipped down his throat. Somehow, however, he managed to swallow the liquid, and not long after he stopped shaking and went to sleep.

"You are more than welcome to stay here with him," Madam Pomfrey continued, "but you might as well leave. He won't be conscious for at least another day."

After a lengthy argument, Crabbe and Goyle came to the conclusion that they'd leave him there and come back with reinforcements in the morning, when he'd be awake, and so they left. Madam Pomfrey frowned as she watched them leave, and turned to Harry's sleeping body.

"You've got yourself some right friends, there, lad. If I were you, I'd go back to them other two."

She winked at him before she walked away, completely aware of that he wasn't able to see, and probably even hear, her, and left him to sleep while the medicine fought against the spider's poison.

* * *

It was the middle of the night, and the sound of squeaking and moaning filled the air. Harry Potter was tossing and turning in his bed, sweat running down his forehead, as he dreamed of a past that had seemed so distant these past few days. He could see himself laughing along with his old friends, he could see himself studying along with Hermione, eating Every-flavoured beans with Ron, he could see himself taking strolls around the castle with Ginny, he could see the smile on Hagrid's face as he handed him his first real birthday cake and told him he had made it himself - words and all, he could see himself studying the Patronus charm with Lupin, he could see Sirius smiling at him and asking him to come live with him, he could see his parents reaching for him... And in the midst of it all, there he saw himself, asking him a whispered question that he could not hear. He screamed for him to speak up, to tell him what it was, and finally he heard it, a faint whisper blowing in the wind.

_"Where did you go?"_

He suddenly awoke and sat upright, breathing heavily and looking around with frantic eyes. He tried to scream out for help, but his voice wouldn't carry the cry, and so what emerged was nothing but a muffled sound. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his raging heart.

"Something is wrong," he whispered to himself, "This isn't right."

His pulse slowed, his heart started beating regularly again, and finally he sagged backwards into a lying position, passing out once more, and forgetting everything he had just dreamed.

...to be continued


	4. Part 4

**A Series of Very Weird Events**

_Part Four:_

Harry had been waiting for this for a while; the first chance to go into Hogsmeade. When he got there, however, he wondered why on earth he'd been looking forward to it like he had. The place was packed with Gryffindors, for starters, and he'd found that he couldn't stand the sight of them, these days. As he walked down the street, hand-in-hand with Pansy Parkinson, he glared at the odd member of one of the other Houses, and they all shied away from him. Already, Harry Potter had managed to build up quite a reputation as a Slytherin. Pansy was almost glowing with pride, because, apparently, she'd had a crush on Harry for quite some time, and now, she finally had him all to herself. Crabbe and Goyle, however, weren't too thrilled about the relationship, since this seemed to have put them in second place. They were currently stalking behind Pansy and Harry, moping because Harry had only talked to them once, that day, and that was to yell at them. Pansy reached up a hand and brought her hands through Harry's locks, which had now become patterned with white highlights amongst all his black hair. It was the oddest thing, everyone said it was the oddest thing, but after Harry had joined Slytherin, parts of his hair had started turning white, while Draco Malfoy's hair was gradually getting darker. Odd, odd indeed. Pansy, however, never hesitated to tell everyone she met how she preferred this colour to what it had been before. She thought it made him look sophisticated. However, the rest of the school would make jokes about how his hair looked like a chess-board. Hushed jokes, mind you, since no one dared tell it to his face.

It was a cold day, and so the students were all dressed in warm winter coats, but Harry had decided to go without, insisting that he didn't feel the cold. Pansy was so proud, and kept referring to her new boyfriend as "her hero", simply because he could walk around without a coat. Crabbe and Goyle had been whispering about it all day, because they thought it was so foolish, but they hadn't said it to her face, because they knew she would just go running to Harry with it, and then he'd yell at them again, and they didn't want that. Of course, that would mean that he'd have to talk to them, which was what they had been wanting all day.

They had just decided to go to the Hog's Head when they saw Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy walking towards them. Harry smirked when he saw Draco's futile attempts to get on Ginny's good side. Right now, he was repeatedly offering her some chocolate he'd just bought, which she kept on turning down, each time becoming more annoyed with Draco's continuously grinning face.

"Oh, look," Harry said, half turning to Crabbe and Goyle, "Malfoy's in love."

The other two laughed, and Pansy giggled along and snuggled up to Harry.

"Just like we are, Harry!" she exclaimed, looking adoringly up into Harry's face. Harry, on the other hand, looked down at her with a sceptical look in his face.

"Yeah...sure..." he wiggled his way from her to create some distance between them, and then kept walking towards the approaching Gryffindors.

"Well, well, well," Harry said when they got close enough to hear him, "out taking a stroll, are we?" He let his gaze glide over the four Gryffindors, until it at last landed on the smiling Draco, "Malfoy, will you stop grinning like a fool, you're making me want to throw up."

"Stop it, Harry," Hermione interrupted.

"Oh, no," Harry said and turned towards his three friends, "It's talking to me. Crabbe, could you please take care of it for me, that...that..." he gestured towards Hermione, "there." Crabbe and Goyle broke out in brutish fits of laughter, while Pansy's giggling started again. Harry nearly flinched at the sound of her laughter, but managed to contain himself for now.

"Harry," Hermione continued, "You don't mean that. Harry...Look at me, Harry."

"No thanks, I just ate," Harry answered turning further around. Hermione walked around him until she was standing in front of him, and stared determinedly into his eyes.

"Harry Potter, look at me."

"No, you're disgusting," he said, turning from her again, but it didn't seem to affect her, something that annoyed him even more than her actual presence.

"Harry!" she suddenly yelled, "You will look at me right this instance!"

"My, my," a silky voice from behind Hermione suddenly said, "In my day, Mudbloods watched their manners around Purebloods."

Hermione slowly turned around, as Harry did the same, to look up into the cold face of Lucius Malfoy. She stepped back until she was standing next to Ron and Ginny, and glared silently at him. Harry smirked at the sight, before turning towards Lucius, the smirk still resting on his lips.

"Hello, father!" Draco said and stepped up in front of his father, extending his arms as if to give him a hug. Lucius looked down at him with disgust, and stepped around him, not paying him any heed whatsoever. Draco followed his father with his eyes, his expression becoming more and more hurt with every step he took, until he stood there with his lower lip quivering as though he was about to cry.

"Young Mr. Potter," Lucius said as he approached Harry, "I was hoping to find you here. I've been wanting to have a word with you for...quite a while."

"Oh, really, sir?" Harry said as Lucius put a hand on his shoulder to tell him to follow him, and walked beside him further down the road, leaving both his friends from Slytherin and the Gryffindors behind. Pansy skipped after them, trying her best to keep up with them and grab Harry's hand.

"Now, Potter," Lucius started, but suddenly noticed Pansy, and stopped both talking and walking, "Potter, is this irritating little...person with you?"

Harry looked Pansy up and down as she stood there, grinning broadly at him.

"No," he said after a little while, and then turned away, following Lucius further down the street. Pansy was left standing, and soon ran into one of the nearby alleys, where passer-bys could hear her sobbing for hours to come.

"Now, where was I...ah, yes. I have been meaning to talk to you, Potter," Lucius continued now that Pansy was finally out of the way.

"Really, sir? Do you mind if I ask why?" Harry answered, trying his best to be as polite as possible, eager as he was to find out what it was Lucius Malfoy wanted him for.

"I have been...assessing your situation, you might say. You live with Muggles, correct?"

"Quite correct, sir," Harry answered, "appalling, really."

"I can sympathise," Lucius continued, "It is not healthy for a young wizard to live under such conditions. It gives a faulty impression of the wizarding world, or at least how the wizarding world should be. Wizards should not have to endure Muggles; it is beneath us."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, sir."

"That is why I have come to the conclusion that you should take up lodgings at my estate. Due to some recent...events...I have a room free. If you want it, it's yours," he paused for a moment, before he added; "Narcissa would be thrilled, I am sure, if you did us the honour of taking up residence with us."

"The honour would be all mine, sir, I assure you."

"Good. I understand you have a Christmas Holiday coming up?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"I will be expecting you, then. Good afternoon, Potter."

"Good afternoon, sir."

Lucius Malfoy turned on his heel and walked away, and left Harry standing in the middle of the street, feeling replenished and proud, before he, as well, turned on his heel and walked the other way, towards the Hog's Head, where he expected he'd be able to find Crabbe and Goyle.

* * *

Later that day, Harry Potter sat in his usual chair in the Slytherin common-room, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate, which Crabbe had brought him, and a good book, which Goyle had brought him. He was beginning to understand how those two could be useful, now. The fireplace was lit, as usual, and a big group of third-years were sitting in front of it, eating candy and talking about day-to-day activities, quietly, so as to not disturb Harry. No one ever disturbed Harry, especially not now, after everyone had heard that Lucius Malfoy had nearly adopted him. Not disturbing Harry, however, had proved to be a very difficult task, as Harry seemed to be annoyed by everything and everyone, these days. The third-years' whispered conversation was soon perceived as constant nagging at the back of his head.

"Leave," he finally said, after five minutes of having to listen to them, "You're getting on my nerves."

The third-years all rose as one entity, and darted out of the room, their little knees shaking with fear of irritating Harry further than they already had. Harry smirked to himself as they escaped from his presence, and turned to the next page in his book. The book had been lying on his nightstand when he got back from Hogsmeade, and was titled "Dark Magic, a short summary", and Harry had soon come to the conclusion, judging from the book's content, that it was against school regulations. The chapter he was now reading was solely concerning the Avada Kedava Curse, which had not yet even once been described as an Unforgivable Curse, and this was after Harry had read ten pages on the subject. There were detailed descriptions of how the curse worked, and when it had worked like that, and even detailed descriptions of how to best use it. Harry found that he was very intrigued by the subject, and ploughed through the pages as eager as a child on Christmas Eve. His delight, however, was suddenly brought to an end when a high-pitched, shaking voice made its way to his ears.

"Harry!"

He looked up from his book; his left brow cocked in a nonchalant manner, and stared right into the angry face of Pansy Parkinson.

"Yes?" he said, his voice revealing his obvious irritation.

"How could you just walk away from me like that, and tell...that man, that you didn't even know me?" Harry could see that tears were welding up inside her eyes, and that she was struggling to keep herself from crying. It was a pitiful sight, really. The woman truly was pathetic.

"Pansy," he said and laid his book down on the table, before sitting up straight, "I was trying to have a serious conversation with Lucius Malfoy," he paused for a moment, "Do you know who Lucius Malfoy is?" he asked her, talking to her like one would talk to an ignorant child.

"Of course I do," she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying to put on a brave face, "He's Draco's father."

"Draco," Harry said in an annoyed, and perhaps even angered, fashion, as he stood up and met her face-to-face, "is unimportant. He is nobody. Lucius Malfoy is one of the most powerful men in the wizarding world, Pansy. Do you have any idea how much he can do for me?"

Pansy hesitated, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes..." she said, but Harry could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"Lucius Malfoy wanted to talk to me, Pansy, and there you were, trailing after me like a lovesick first-year. I simply had to pretend not to know you, in order to hold on to that smidgeon of respect Mr. Malfoy still had for me. Luckily, your indiscretions didn't destroy too much for me, and you should count your blessings for that, Pansy. You really should."

Pansy stood there, staring at Harry with large, tear-filled eyes, her lower lip trembling slightly as an expression of pure terror spread across her face.

"Oh, Harry! I'm sorry! Please forgive me!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands around him. Rolling his eyes, he pushed her away and kept her at arm's length.

"I might," he said and took a step away from her, "but it will take some time. I'll have to decide if I can trust you. I can't have a girlfriend who is likely to do the kind of thing you did today!"

"Oh, Harry, I promise I won't do it again!" she yelped, stepping closer to him. Harry took another step away, and she lowered her head in disappointment. Harry stood there watching her for a while, while she silently sobbed. He tilted his head to the side, studying her with interest. What a pathetic creature she was, really. Truly a pathetic creature.

"Alright," he said after a while, "I believe you." Pansy looked up, smiling in relieved amazement, and stepped forward towards Harry with her arms extended. Harry held up a hand, stopping her before she reached him; "But!" he continued, "I am warning you, Pansy. Don't you ever interfere when I am trying to have a civilized conversation with Lucius Malfoy, or anyone of his stature, or I swear to you I'll..."

He stopped there, seeing that she suddenly looked overcome with panic. What was she expecting him to say? 'Kill you'? Was that what she expected? Oh, the drama, the drama.

"...leave you," he finished, and Pansy took a deep breath.

"I promise, Harry, I-" she started, but Harry cut her off.

"Don't promise, just do it."

Pansy nodded, still sobbing a little, and looked down at the ground.

"I will..." she whispered, still nodding. Harry studied her for a moment or two more, and then rolled his eyes at her, without her noticing.

"Go to bed, Pansy. You look like you could use some sleep."

It was the nicest thing he could think of to say, at the moment, and Pansy immediately obeyed, almost running into the girls' dormitory while she sobbed silently. Good grief, that girl could nag. Harry sat back down and picked up his book again, opening it at the page where he'd left off when Pansy interrupted him, and kept on reading. He had been reading for no more than ten seconds when one specific paragraph caught his eye:

_'The Avada Kedava Curse was amongst the Dark Lord's favoured curses, and was used on many on his victims. It was this curse he used in the famous attack of Harry Potter, where the boy walked away with his life intact, while the Dark Lord was weakened and diminished.'_

Suddenly, the scar on his forehead started burning, and, with a yelp, Harry put both his hands over it, clenching his jaw in agony. It felt like the scar was burning its way through his skull, like it was trying to get into his brain. He got to his feet and started walking towards the boys' dormitory, but his feet wouldn't carry his weight for more than a few steps, and he was forced to kneel on the floor, still clutching his scar with both hands. He bended to a lump on the floor, issuing weak cries of pain from time to time, before he started to crawl forward, trying his best to make it to the door. When he was nearly there, his hands gave away under him, as well, and he collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily and struggling to get up while the burning made its way to inside his head. He rolled over on his side and covered his scar with both hands, before curling into a foetus-position. The light in the common-room started stinging in his eyes, but he kept them open, looking for some way to escape from this room. The last thing he registered before everything went black was the sound of Goyle shouting his name.

* * *

Hermione Granger rushed through the halls, scowling angrily at everyone who got in her way. She didn't have time for this! Everyone she passed stared oddly at her, wondering how a little girl like her managed to carry that load, for in her hands she was holding the biggest book they'd ever seen. Finally she reached the library, and she rushed inside. When she was there, she quickly managed to locate Ron and Ginny at the table where she had left them fifteen minutes earlier, and she dropped the book on the table with a loud bang, which made everyone else in the library turn and look at them with a start. Ron and Ginny put on their best apologetic expressions, but Hermione was too busy to pay attention to the other people in the library, and simply hurried to sit down in her chair.

"I found it!" she silently exclaimed, "I had to borrow it from Professor Dumbledore's own collection, but I found it!"

Ron and Ginny looked at her with puzzled looks in their faces. She had simply got up and left fifteen minutes earlier, when they were trying to find out more about the Personovo Potion, which Hermione seemed to think had something to do with Harry's strange behaviour, these past weeks.

"You found...what?" Ginny asked, looking at Hermione with puzzlement in her eyes.

"This," Hermione said and pointed at the book, "is one of the most famous books on potions known to man, or wizard, in this case. It is world-renowned, but also almost impossible to get a hold of. Only a select few people in the world have a copy of this book! In here you can find recipes for and information about some of the world's most rare and complex potions. I hoped they'd have a copy here, and here it is!"

"So..." Ron said, still looking a bit confused, "you're saying that we might find some information about what's going on with Harry in there?"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at Ron.

"Ron, here's an entire chapter dedicated to the Personovo Potion. If we can't find a way to solve Harry's problem in this book, we're as good as doomed!"

Ron swallowed hard, not at all liking the sound of that proposition.

"Well," he started looking at the book, "look it up, then!"

Hermione rolled her eyes again and opened the book, first taking a quick look at the page of contents, and then flipping through the pages while she muttered under her breath "567...567...". Finally, she reached the page she was looking for and looked up at Ginny and Ron with a delighted smile across her face.

"Here it is! Page 567, Chapter 22: Personovo Potion," she paused temporarily as she started reading down the first page and continued down the second. Ron and Ginny started reading their own books, which Hermione had looked up for them before she disappeared, earlier, and had just gotten started when;

"Oh, no!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, and they both looked up at her with panic in their eyes.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, "Is he dying?"

"No," Hermione continued, "It's worse. It says here that if the individuals who have been affected by the Personovo Potion start adopting each other's features, it's a sure sign of a very strong potion. Guys," she looked up at them, worry etched on her features, "Harry's hair is turning platinum blonde."

Ginny and Ron exchanged worried glances before they looked back at Hermione. Ron's worried expression, however, suddenly faded and was replaced by a confused one.

"What's so bad about that?"

"Ron," Hermione answered, obviously disappointed, "Professor Snape says that a strong enough version of the Personovo Potion could induce full transformation, meaning that Harry could become Draco Malfoy! He also said that if the potion was too strong, it could cause severe harm to the individuals involved, and in this book it says that they could both die!"

Ron's eyes shot open, and he gaped at Hermione in terrified amazement.

"Blimey..."

"But, Hermione," Ginny suddenly interrupted, "it says that they're supposed to switch personalities, but Draco isn't at all acting like Harry! He's always pleasant, he's all too happy, and even the sight of a piece of paper can make him laugh and celebrate life! It's outright creepy! Furthermore, he's still behaving like a complete coward!"

"Well, according to this book," Hermione started, "some of the person's former personality will always remain after he or she has digested the potion, struggling to beat the new, fabricated personality. The coward that's left in Draco must be the last of his personality. Also, it says here that the transformation will, in some cases, be influenced by the affected persons' opinions about one another, especially if those opinions are very strong. So, obviously, Draco is behaving in the way he believes Harry behaves."

"That's stupid," Ron suddenly shot in, "Harry isn't like he's behaving at all!"

"And I'm sure the Slytherins would assure us that Draco isn't at all like Harry is acting, either!" Hermione argued, scowling at Ron.

"Actually," Ginny interrupted, "that might be right. I mean, Draco was mean, he really was, but Harry...he's just evil! I mean, did you see the way he was walking down the street with Pansy Parkinson, holding her hand and all, and then he just dismissed her and claimed not to know her! Not that she didn't deserve it, but it was a mean thing to do!"

Both Hermione and Ron stared at her for a little while. Of all the examples she could have mentioned, she brought up the one that involved Pansy Parkinson being ditched. Of course she would.

"Right," Ron finally said, when Ginny was starting to turn red under their staring eyes, "and I don't remember Draco being as judgemental as Harry's acting, now, or as irritable! I mean, everyone's afraid of him, even the other Slytherins!"

"Ron," Hermione suddenly interrupted, "do not refer to Harry as a Slytherin."

"Hermione," Ron answered, "he is a Slytherin."

"No!" Hermione answered, angrily, "Draco Malfoy is. His personality's just trapped inside Harry, that's all."

They were quiet for a while, staring at each other, until Ron finally decided to break the silence.

"So...how do we fix it?"

Hermione issued a disgruntled sound, before she turned back to her book and ploughed through it, looking for some kind of cure. She had just turned the page when her expression suddenly turned surprised.

"Hm...It says here that there is no cure."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, "You mean we could be stuck with happy-go-lucky Draco and evil Harry for the rest of our lives!"

"No," Hermione said and sighed, "It says here that the person's former personality will, after a while, depending on how strong the potion is, force the new, fabricated personality to step down, and take charge again."

"Let me see!" Ron suddenly exclaimed and pulled the book over to where he was sitting, snatching it out from under Hermione's eyes.

"Ron!" Hermione yelped, but Ron ignored her.

"Hang on!" he suddenly said, after he'd found the paragraph he thought Hermione was reading from, "It says here that even the strongest Personovo Potions are only supposed to last for a few days, at most! Harry and Draco have been acting odd for more than two weeks!"

Hermione stole the book back, glaring angrily at Ron as she did so, and found the part he was talking about.

"Oh, my... You're right. That means that someone has to be slipping them more potion before the old potion wears off!"

"Yeah," Ron said, "but who could that be? Dumbledore would have noticed it if someone was smuggling in poisoned food, wouldn't he?"

Ron looked from Ginny to Hermione, but only got a reaction from Ginny, since Hermione was staring down into the book with a terrified expression across her face.

"Oh, no..." she finally said, "It says here that if the Personovo Potion is digested periodically over a long enough span of time, the effect can be permanent! That, Ron, would mean that we'll be stuck with happy-go-lucky Draco for the rest of our lives, and that Harry will remain evil."

"Oh, no..." Ron whimpered, "But with Harry as their Seeker, the Slytherins are bound to win every Quidditch match this year!"

"Ron!" Hermione said, almost shouting, "Is Quidditch all that's on your mind? If Harry remains evil, he's likely to cross over to You Know Who's side!"

Ron gaped, suddenly realizing the actual danger in the proposition of Harry and Draco's personalities being permanently switched.

"That would not be good," he whispered, staring straight ahead into thin air.

"Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "that would be the worst possible outcome. 'Not good' doesn't even come close to describing what it would be."

* * *

He opened his eyes and looked around, confused and misplaced, and sat up. He was in his bed, he realized now. He was in his bed in his room at the dormitory. But why was he here? He had some faint recollection of suddenly feeling a strong, burning sensation in his scar, but other than that, he remembered very little. He remembered having talked to Pansy about something, but he could not for the life of him remember what it was. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up. Immediately, his head started pounding and the room started spinning, and he sat down, rubbing his temples.

A knock on the door told him that someone was coming, and he called for them to enter. The door slowly opened, and Crabbe and Goyle stuck their heads through the opening. Harry motioned for them to come in, and, looking rather relieved, they walked inside.

"Can we get you something, Harry?" Goyle said, and Harry shook his head. He didn't say anything; he just shook his head, not really feeling like talking just yet, since his throat felt dryer than a desert stretch.

"A glass of water or anything?" Crabbe decided to bring Goyle's question to the next level, and this time he caught Harry's interest.

"Yeah," he croaked, "a glass of water would be nice."

Goyle nodded eagerly and ran out of the room to fetch him the glass of water, and Crabbe pulled up a chair and sat down. Harry really wanted to yell at someone, but between his dry throat and the pain in his head, he decided to save it for later, when he felt better. Instead, he looked up at Crabbe, squinting slightly because he suddenly realized how bright the light in the room was.

"What happened? And do something about that light, it stings my eyes."

Crabbe nodded and blew out the candle they'd placed on Harry's nightstand, before he looked back to him.

"We don't know, Harry. You were lying on the floor when we found you. You kept saying it burned. And you -"

"What burned?" Harry said and cut him off.

"You didn't say," Crabbe answered, immediately forgetting what he was about to say.

"Oh...alright. Say what you were going to say."

Crabbe hesitated, and Harry could see he was struggling to remember what it was he'd been planning on saying. He could not believe how stupid that man was! He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, and tried his best to wait patiently for Crabbe's reply. Suddenly, his face lit up, and he looked like he remembered what it was.

"You told us not to take you to the hospital wing!" he exclaimed, grinning broadly. Harry looked at him with a sceptical look on his face, before he looked down again and kept rubbing his temples.

"Good. You two stupid sods probably would have brought me right there if it wasn't for my telling you not to, what with your sparkling genius, and all."

Crabbe furrowed his brow, and when Harry glanced up, he could tell he was trying to figure out if what Harry had just said had been a compliment or an offence. He'd learned, these past few days, that if you misjudged one of Harry's sarcastic comments, you were in for a lashing unlike any other. It was only these past couple of days, though. Before that, he'd only rolled his eyes or muttered "bloody idiot" under his breath while he walked away. He'd become much worse, lately.

"Why didn't you want us to take you to the hospital wing, Harry?" he settled with the safe approach, and avoided confronting him on what he'd just said.

"Because," Harry answered, "the Quidditch match against Gryffindor is in three days, and if the teachers found out that I'd collapsed again, they might not want me to play. Are you still with me?"

Crabbe nodded, finally understanding that what Harry had said earlier had, in fact, been sarcasm, and he even knew the reason for it, now. The door to the room opened again, and Goyle came inside, carrying a glass of water. He marched right over to the bed and handed it to Harry, who gladly accepted. He gulped it down in a matter of seconds, and handed the empty glass back to Goyle.

"Now, leave. I need to sleep," the two boys nodded and scrambled towards the door, eager to be the first to leave. Harry watched them with amusement, before he lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes. The Quidditch match against Gryffindor was in three days, only three days. Three days until he and his team could humiliate the Gryffindor team in front of the entire school; he could humiliate Dumbledore's precious Gryffindor House right under his nose, and everyone would be there to see him. Severus Snape, for whom he had experienced an increase in respect, would be there, and even Lucius Malfoy was going to be there. He'd show them all that Slytherin could make it to the top. He'd show them all that he, Harry Potter, could bring Slytherin House to the top.

_...to be continued_


	5. Part 5

**A Series of Very Weird Events**

_Part 5:_

The day of the Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Slytherin arrived, and the excitement surrounding the game was greater than any game before. For weeks there had been whispering in the halls, ever since Draco Malfoy was chosen as the new Seeker for the Gryffindor team, and Harry Potter was chosen as the new Seeker for the Slytherin team. Everyone was asking the same question: Could Gryffindor beat Slytherin now that it had lost one of its key players, or were they doomed from the start? Everyone acknowledged the fact that Draco was good enough, but he was nothing compared to Harry Potter. Several students had been punished with detention for starting pools and staking money on the game, but still there were many people betting on either team. All the halls were draped with green and silver, red and gold, and large banners either reading "Go Gryffindor" or "Go Slytherin" were a common sight in Hogwarts for several days in advance. Harry Potter and his friends had made it a habit to rip the gold and red off the walls, however, and some Slytherins had started painting on the banners, turning 'Gryffindor' into 'Gryffinbore' or 'Gryffindope', something all Slytherins found exceedingly amusing.

Now, the day had come, and Harry Potter floated high up in the sky on his new broomstick, the very latest model, which he had received two days before as a personal gift from Lucius Malfoy, along with the promise that he would attend. He could see that he had honoured that promise, as he hung there in the air, looking out across the cheering crowds, for there he was, sitting in the same place as Professor Dumbledore and the other teachers. He could see him raising his chin just a tad when he saw Harry was looking at him, probably as a greeting, and Harry mimicked his move, greeting him back. He let his gaze wander further, past Professor Snape, who was staring intently at him, and nodded slightly when Harry looked at him - another movement Harry mimicked - and then onto the stands, where he first saw the people cheering for Gryffindor, and then the people cheering for Slytherin. To his great delight, the Gryffindor stands were much fuller than the Slytherin stands. It was perfect. This way, it would hurt that much more when Slytherin beat them into the ground.

He turned to the game, and saw that Madam Hooch had entered the court, and was shouting the rules. He didn't pay much attention. Instead, he focused on the smiling Draco Malfoy, who was hanging in the air before him, staring lovingly up at the clear sky with glee. It was too easy! Three minutes into the game, the stupid fool would probably be distracted by a butterfly and fly off in the wrong direction! And with Weasley guarding the goals...Slytherin couldn't lose. Finally, the Snitch and Bludgers were released, and a moment later, the Quaffle was in the air, and Hooch blew the whistle. The game was afoot, and so, chaos erupted on the court. A Slytherin Chaser caught the Quaffle, and immediately headed for the goal, dodging a Bludger on his way, before he passed it to a female Slytherin Chaser, who made it all the way to the goal and ensured Slytherin their first ten points. Harry smirked and looked around, finding that Draco Malfoy had already been distracted, but not by a butterfly, as Harry had expected. Instead, it was a leaf blowing in the wind. Harry felt a strong urge to shout at him, because the way he was acting made him just plain annoying, but he suppressed the urge and instead set out to find the Snitch. Before he'd found it, the score was already 50 - 10 to Slytherin, all in a matter of minutes. He smirked in Ron's direction, but it didn't seem to affect him, even though he was looking straight at him. Staring, in fact... He took his mind off the game for a moment, and was about to shout something at him when Ron suddenly gasped.

"Harry, look out!" he shouted at pointed at something behind Harry. He turned slightly, just in time to see the Bludger come soaring towards him. He ducked, and the Bludger missed him by an inch. When he looked up again, Ron was sighing with relief, and Slytherin scored again, without him even noticing. Harry knew Ron was pathetic as a goalie, but he knew he wasn't this bad at guarding the goals, nor had he ever before been this protective over members of the opposing team... Oh, well. If the idiot wanted to dig his own grave, Harry at least would not try to stop him.

Another twenty points were scored by Slytherin before Ron made the first save of the game, and the score was now 80-10. Harry was bored. They were winning the game, and all, but this was taking too long. He looked around, searching for that little ball of gold that would be around here, somewhere, and managed to locate it soaring just above the Gryffindor stands. Before he'd even had time to think, he was after it, heading straight for the stands. People screamed, they hadn't seen him coming, nor had they noticed the Snitch, yet, and he was heading straight for them. Just before he crashed into them, however, he turned upwards with his arm outstretched towards the Snitch, his hand open and ready to grab it. It was mere inches away, he could feel it at the tip of his finger. His other hand was clutched around the broom as he leaned forwards and stretched towards the golden Snitch. Carefully, he loosened his grip and slid his hand further up the broom and then grabbed it tightly again, pulling himself forward with a jolt. His hand closed. He hadn't noticed until then that he had been travelling straight up for a long while, he hadn't noticed it until his broom dove downwards under his sudden weight, and he was faced with the ground growing closer and closer for every passing second. His hand remained closed as he scrambled atop his broom, trying his best to slide back on it and steady the weight, but it was a lost cause. Instead, he had to pull at the broom, pull it forth. He didn't get far back on it, but far enough to tilt it slightly upwards, so it was diving down at an angle. The ground came closer closer and he struggled to lift the broom further, unwilling to use his other hand to help him. He couldn't open his hand, not now. Using all his force, he leaned back and pulled up, the ground was mere meters underfoot, and he just managed to get it horizontal before he hit the ground. He was safe. The broom slowed, and he presented his hand, producing a ball of gold with the most delicate wings...

"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch!" the voice echoed out across the stadium, "Gryffind...I mean Slytherin has won the match!"

The Slytherin supporters cheered loudly, and he looked up from the Snitch, let his eyes travel from the cheering Slytherins to the rest of the school as they stared at the sight before them in horror. Slytherin had beat Gryffindor, just as they had feared, but refused to face in the past few days. He lifted the Snitch high above his head, smirked at the onlookers, and the cheering from the Slytherin side grew stronger. He heard his name being shouted in unison from up there; 'Harry, Harry, Harry', and his smirk grew to a grin. He let his eyes travel further, to the Professors' stand, where he saw Lucius Malfoy, applauding his victory. _His_ victory! He nodded to him, and Lucius nodded back. It was all the confirmation he needed, before he let his gaze travel further, to Professor Snape, who was also applauding, if not so openly as Lucius. What was this? He should be celebrating! He had beaten McGonagall, Slytherin had beaten Gryffindor, and Harry had beaten Draco, so why wasn't he celebrating? But there it was, that glance sent to the side, towards McGonagall, and a smirk that lasted for several seconds, while his applauding grew stronger. He had made the Head of his House proud. His work here was done.

* * *

They would be here soon. Harry was sitting on his own in his room in the dormitory, while the others were in the common room, celebrating their victory. They were sure they would win the House Cup, this year, everyone was sure Harry would lead them to victory. He should be out there celebrating with them, but what was a victory unless it was followed by a grand gesture? Harry had such a gesture in mind, one he had retired into this room to inform some of his fellow Slytherins about. He had ordered Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and two fourth year boys, whose names he hadn't bothered to learn, to come to his quarters ten minutes after he had left, and he expected they would obey. Originally, he had only wanted Crabbe, Goyle and Nott to come with him, but after he'd thought about it, he'd decided that they might need two look-outs. Some extra hands would only do them good, and the fourth years should count themselves lucky to even be considered for this task. After all, it was he, Harry Potter, who was asking; the same person who had lead them to victory, and would lead them to victory again, in more than one way. Much better than bloody Draco Malfoy.

After a few minutes of waiting, they all arrived, at once. He was disappointed. He had given them direct orders not to attract attention to themselves, and then they had just up and left the celebration as a crowd? People were bound to have noticed that. But it was Slytherin people, thank the lord, meaning they were safe, for now. He got up after they had all entered the room, and closed the door behind them.

"Idiots!" he exclaimed, "I told you not to draw attention to yourselves! Don't you think people would have noticed five people leaving for the same place at the exact same time?"

The five boys looked uneasily at each other, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Never mind!" he barked, and walked back to his bed. He lay down and studied his five accomplices. Idiots, all and one. "You're lucky it's only Slytherins out there, or you could have drawn unwanted attention to our task."

He closed his eyes, waiting for the questions that undoubtedly would come. When they didn't come, he opened his eyes again, and looked the five boys over once more. Crabbe and Goyle seemed normal enough; somewhat pale, but otherwise as usual, Nott was perhaps a little darker around the eyes than usual, and there was some kind of alertness in his eyes Harry didn't much care for, but it was Nott, after all. One could not expect too much. It wasn't until his eyes reached the two younger boys that it all finally settled in.

"You're afraid of me?" he exclaimed and sat up. The five boys nodded in unison, especially the youngest fourth year, which was as pale as a ghost with big, round eyes that stared at Harry in obvious terror.

"You shouldn't have to be," Harry continued and lay back down, "You should be here out of loyalty, not simply out of fear."

"Actually, Harry," the oldest fourth-year started, but immediately added: "Sir," when he saw the look on Harry's face, "Actually, Sir, we're here...well at least I'm here out of loyalty _despite_ my fear of you."

Harry studied the boy standing before him. So one of them had a brain, did he?

"What's your name?" he asked, and the boy immediately answered.

"James, Sir. James Keegs."

"Keegs. Very well. Take a seat, Keegs. The rest of you can stand."

As Keegs pulled up a chair and sat down, Harry continued speaking, deciding that this was taking too long.

"You're probably wondering why I wanted to see you all?" the boys nodded, and Harry was again disappointed, especially in Crabbe and Goyle. It wasn't as though he hadn't tried dropping them notes, it wasn't like he hadn't given them every opportunity to figure out what it was he was planning, but had they managed to pick up on his hints? No. Honestly. Sometimes he wondered if he wouldn't be better off on his own. He always managed to remind himself, however, that every leader needed some idiots to follow him; some idiots it would be easy to sacrifice, should the need arise. But he'd hold onto this Keegs fellow. He didn't seem as dim-witted as the rest of them.

"Tonight," he continued after a short pause, "we pay a visit to Gryffindor House."

The assembly was silent for a moment, as they thought it over in silent puzzlement. Only Keegs was returning Harry's satisfied smirk, something that earned him another few points in Harry's book.

"Why, Harry?" Goyle finally asked, and Harry sat up while he violently rubbed his eyes. If he ever met the Dark Lord again, he would offer Goyle up as a personal present. His scar gave a sudden twinge, but he ignored it.

"Because," Harry started, "We are going to paint their common-room green. Magically, of course. The swine deserve it. They're all Mudbloods and Weasleys; it's a disgrace to the wizarding world!"

His accomplices laughed, now, finally getting the joke. Keegs was, to Harry's great dismay, the first to stop laughing.

"What?" Harry asked, glaring at him.

"I was just wondering how you're proposing we get into the Gryffindor common-room."

Well. At least it was an intelligent question, and also one Harry could easily answer. Of course, he chose not to.

"You leave that up to me, Keegs. Just make sure you're all ready to go at two o'clock tonight."

* * *

They hadn't noticed him when he stole their passwords. Of course they hadn't, those Gryffindors wouldn't notice a dragon landing on their heads! Of course, he had been protected by the invisibility cloak, which had never failed him in the past. For some reason, however, he'd had a feeling that something would go wrong, this time, and that he'd get caught. But he hadn't. He'd learned the password, and here they were, the six of them, walking through the darkness with their wands lit. He'd decided that this was a perfect opportunity to use the Marauder's Map, since he was, truly, up to no good, and he followed it now, leading his accomplices through the halls at high speed.

"Harry!" Keegs hissed, but Harry ignored him. He'd allowed Keegs to call him Harry, now, since he was proving himself to be the brightest member of his inner circle, despite his young age. He was only two years younger than Harry, but he still considered him to be a child. He was only fourteen, barely a man at all. He was lucky to be under Harry's rule.

"Harry!" Keegs hissed again, and this time Harry nodded towards him, telling him that he acknowledged his call, "We don't know where we're going!"

"I know," Harry answered, not bothering to whisper.

"Harry, keep your voice down! What if a teacher comes..."

"I'll know!" Harry interrupted, raising his voice just a tad. Some of the portraits around them complained a little, but Harry silenced them with a quick glare in their direction. One reamrked that he'd never seen a more cruel-looking child, and Harry felt inclined to go back and correct him; he was not a child, not anymore.

Finally, they were there, standing before the Fat Lady, as it should be. Harry brought his illuminated wand close to her portrait, and her eyes slid open.

"What...what on earth is this..." she muttered, before Harry drew back his wand, and she got a chance to fully open her eyes.

Harry stepped closer to her, and whispered the password to her, silently enough to prevent the others from hearing, and she gasped loudly.

"But...but...you're not from Gryffindor!" she exclaimed, and Harry smirked.

"Tonight we are," he said in a whisper, and raised his wand towards her, "Silencio!" he said, loudly, and watched as the Fat Lady opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to make any sound. He smirked again, and turned to Crabbe and Goyle, who were also smirking. The entrance into Gryffindor House opened, and Harry motioned for the fourth-year whose name he still didn't know, Nott and Keegs to enter before him, while Crabbe and Goyle were to enter after him. Keegs might have been the smartest of the five, but he still wanted Crabbe and Goyle to be the ones watching his back. At least he knew they were loyal, and would never question his decisions. Keegs...Keegs was perhaps too smart for his own good.

* * *

They entered the common-room one by one, Harry as fourth, and looked around. They split into three groups, as Harry had instructed them to do once they got this far; Crabbe and Goyle getting started on magically painting the room green, Nott and Keegs cursing the doors to the dormitories so that those sleeping within them wouldn't be able to hear what was going on in the common-room, and the fourth-year standing watch by the entrance, in case anyone should notice the Fat Lady's silenced state and decide to check things out. Harry had looked up the spells Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Keegs were using, and had thus decided that, since he had done all the work leading up to this affair, he didn't have to do any of the work here. He wouldn't have had to do even the work leading up to this, of course. The other five were here to serve him, after all.

He sat down in one of the chairs, and soon noticed that it was the chair he had favoured when he was a Gryffindor. Old habits were hard to kill, it seemed... With a flick of his wand and a few whispered words, he had turned the chair green and silver, in stripes, and he sat back in it, making himself comfortable. This shouldn't take too long.

He had only sat there for a moment when he saw it, rolled up into a ball under the Gryffindor table, which had now turned dark green. Crookshanks, sleeping peacefully, warmed by all that fur... Harry smirked, and motioned for Crabbe, who was currently turning things green along with Goyle, Nott and Keegs, to come to his side; an order he immediately obeyed. He made him come up close, so he could whisper something to him. This was to be a surprise for the other boys. He knew they'd appreciate it.

Five minutes later, Crookshanks had escaped under a cupboard, and Harry was content. The room was green, somewhere either dotted or striped with silver, as well, and all that remained was that last touch, the one saved especially for him. He raised his wand, and quickly his silver strokes appeared on the wall as he wrote his personal greeting to the Gryffindors. _Greetings from an old friend._ It was a stroke of genius, he had to admit. They would all know who it was, but none of them would be able to prove it. Gryffindor had many old friends; it could be any of them. He smirked at the wall, they all did, and none of them noticed the faint creaking sound that should tell them that someone had exited the dormitories and was heading for where they stood.

"Harry?" the person soon made himself known, however, and Harry knew who it was before he even turned around.

"Neville."

The six Slytherin boys all swirled around with their wands raised, and in unison cried out:

"Expelliarmus!"

Before any of them even had time to register it, Neville was flying backwards with enough speed to beat the sound barrier, and crashed into the wall some meters behind him with a loud bang, before he slid to the floor and remained there, completely quiet. They were left standing there for a few moments, all of them staring at Neville's lifeless body in terror. Harry was the first to react.

"Leave him!" he cried out, and the other five stared at him in shock, "He'll probably live. We have to go."

The other five stared at him in amazement for a moment, before they finally started moving, collecting their robes, most of which had been placed on Harry's silver and green chair as they worked. Harry studied Neville for a moment, feeling his scar burning slightly. The boy's wand was lying on the ground where he had been standing when their curses hit him... He turned to his fellow Slytherins, who were still collecting their things. There was only one way out of this.

"You!" he said and pointed at the fourth-year, who immediately stepped forth, trembling slightly, "I choose you."

He shrugged, almost apologetically, before he raised his wand and directed it at him.

"Stupefy!" he said loudly, and the boy immediately went rigid and fell onto the floor. "Nott," Harry continued, and Nott unwillingly responded.

"Yes...Harry?" he hesitantly said, and Harry motioned towards Neville's wand, lying on the floor.

"Put that thing in the Gryffindor's hand. It'll look like they fought."

Nott nodded, but he hesitated for a moment before he went to pick up the wand and put it in Neville's hand.

"And undo the curses on the doors while you're at it; we can't leave any traces."

Nott immediately went to work on undoing the curses with a simple counter-curse Harry had taught him, as Harry turned to the remaining three Slytherins.

"As for you three, I'll need you to spread some rumours for tomorrow."

* * *

"This is bad," Hermione said as she, Ron, Ginny and Draco sat around the table in the common-room. They'd been sitting there for half an hour, and Hermione was the first to speak. Neville had been taken away to the hospital wing that morning; Ginny had been the one to find him. She was still sobbing quietly, leaned against her brother's side with his arm around her shoulder.

"I can't believe Harry would do something like that! And to Neville!" she uttered between the sobs, and Draco turned to her with a puzzled look across his face.

"But Harry didn't do that! That boy Marcus did!" he exclaimed, and Ginny's crying broke out again. It was a sign, Hermione had said, that Marcus had been left behind. It meant Harry was getting worse, now that he was beginning to sacrifice his own. He was getting much worse. She had started wondering if the Personovo Potion really could be behind all of this, since Harry was turning as bad as he was. She knew he hated Draco, and all, but he couldn't possibly think he was _this_ cruel.

"Shut up, Draco," Ron said, and Draco obeyed, furrowing his brow slightly, "Ginny, don't cry... Hermione, give her Crookshanks."

"What?" Hermione said, looking sceptically at him, "Why?"

"So she can pet him and feel better, that's why!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron had always been pathetic at comforting people, but he was turning out to be even worse than Hermione had expected, in this case. She got up and looked around, she actually hadn't seen Crookshanks today. Suddenly, she was overcome with worry. They wouldn't have hurt Crookshanks, would they?

"Draco," she said, trying her best to stay calm, "Help me find Crookshanks."

Draco got up and smiled to her, before he started running around the room, looking for Crookshanks. Hermione chose a more calm approach, and started walking slowly around the room, softly calling out his name from time to time. Ron turned and looked at them for a while, but soon decided to turn back to Ginny.

"Neville's in hospital, and here they are, looking for a bloody cat!" he said and turned to Ginny, but this only contributed to her sobbing, "Oh, Ginny, don't cry. You know I don't like it when you..."

A scream cut him off in mid-sentence, and both he and Ginny turned around to see Hermione holding up something green with the word "Slytherin" written across its side in silver letters.

"Is that..." Ginny started, but Hermione was the one to finish.

"Crookshanks!"

Ron gaped, and Ginny did the same, as they both stood up and walked to her side. Hermione held the cat up in front of her, almost like she was afraid of touching him.

"Oh, Crookshanks, what have they done to you?" Hermione whimpered as she said it, but Ron could hardly fight the urge to laugh.

"They've...they've...shaved him! And they've...painted him green! And they've written Slytherin on him in silver!"

"We can see that, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, and now Ron couldn't fight the laughter.

"Hermione, we might as well re-name him Salazar!"

"It's not funny, Ron!" Hermione cried out, before she pushed the struggling Crookshanks into Draco's hands. Draco held him safely in his hands, however, and so Crookshanks settled down. Hermione ran out of the room and into the girls' dormitories. Ginny glared at Ron, who shrugged in return, before she ran after her, still sobbing quietly. Ron rolled his eyes, and turned back to Draco, who was petting the furless Crookshanks.

"Honestly, girls are so touchy."

"Actually, Ron," Draco answered, "you might have been a bit on the insensitive side, there. Just a tad, of course."

Ron studied Draco for a few moments, before he rolled his eyes and walked away, deciding to take a seat in a chair which was now covered in green and silver stripes. He picked up a book, which had also turned green with silver writing, and started reading. Meanwhile, Draco stood petting the hairless cat as he lay there quietly in his arms. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming urge... He held the cat up, but it was already so calm it didn't move. Slowly, he turned it around, and now the cat started struggling and squealed loudly. Finally, he let it go, and it fell towards the ground, fell, fell...but turned and landed on its feet, before it dove under the cupboard once more.

"Draco?" Ron asked, having watched the whole thing, "What are you doing?"

Suddenly, Draco jumped and met Ron's eyes, before he whimpered and covered his mouth with his hand.

"What have I done!" he shouted, before he ran out of the room and into the boys' dormitories. Ron was left alone in the common-room, staring at the door to the dormitory.

"Weird," he said after a little while, "Definitely weird."

* * *

Keegs had become a permanent part of Harry's inner circles, now, and followed him, Crabbe and Goyle everywhere on the day after the attack on Gryffindor House. Nott had decided to take a leave of absence, today, and was blaming it on illness. Of course, after a lengthy conversation with him, Keegs had found out that this illness was solely due to guilt over having to put the wand in Neville's hand and thus being an active part in hanging Marcus out to dry. Keegs was useful in that way, too, Harry had realized. Since people were too afraid of Harry to have civilized conversations with him, anymore, Keegs served as a connection to the other students. He couldn't trust Crabbe and Goyle to perform that task the way Harry wanted; those dim-witted fools would just make matters worse. And so, Keegs proved the perfect solution.

They walked through the halls, Harry first, with Keegs, Crabbe and Goyle following right behind. Harry yawned, and the three other boys watched him do it. They were all tired, but Harry was the only one who showed it. The other three were too disturbed by last night's incidents to behave tired. There had been rumours that Neville might die, that he was so wounded he wasn't going to make it. Of course, rumours weren't always true, and they should know that better than anyone, since they had been spreading rumours about the fourth year Marcus's crush on Parvati Patil, which had not been returned, and thus resulted in a fierce attack on Gryffindor House. People seemed to believe it. Harry had never doubted it; of course it worked! It was his idea! And now, he was safe. Sure, Dumbledore might point his bony finger at him, but he couldn't prove it. He never would.

"Keegs," Harry said as they walked, and he came quickly to his side, "I'll need you to have a little chat with that Marty boy once he gets back from Dumbledore's interrogations."

"It's Marcus, Harry."

"Marcus, Marty, whatever. The little nitwit's in Dumble_bore's_ office, and I'd bet you a galleon he's trying to convince him it was all my doing."

"Rightfully so," Keegs interrupted, and Harry stopped walking. Crabbe and Goyle were almost too slow to catch it, and so they were inches away from crashing into him, but they just managed to stop, and take a step backwards. Keegs stood firm, his gaze never faltering as he stared Harry dead in the eyes.

"You would know, wouldn't you, since you were there? And as I recall it, I wasn't alone in blasting that Gryffindor boy halfway across the room," Harry replied, and Keegs looked away.

"Of course you weren't, Harry," he looked back at Harry again, his eyes meeting Harry's, "I'm on your side."

Harry paused for a moment as he stared into Keegs's eyes. After a while, he turned away and kept walking, immediately followed by the three others.

"Good. And keep making those witty remarks, Keegs," he said, "You're quite amusing, actually."

Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle exchanged relieved glances. There had been a time when all they wanted was to be Harry's number one companions, and now, they were happy Keegs had become his favourite. At least they didn't have to deal with his anger around the clock. They were the muscle, and Harry now treated them like the muscle, never expecting them to understand anything more complicated than their own names uttered in a strict tone-of-voice. Keegs was the brain, and had to endure Harry's overwhelming expectations. They had no interest in being in his shoes. Not anymore.

They had just rounded a corner and started down another hallway when they ran into three Gryffindors. Of course, they weren't just any three Gryffindors, they were Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley. Both parties immediately stopped moving once they saw each other. A few seconds passed, in which nothing seemed to happen at all. Then, suddenly, Hermione rushed forth.

"You!" she shouted, and the hallway seemed to empty more with every step she took. When she reached him, there was no one but the seven of them left. Apparently, people hadn't believed the rumours as much as they pretended to, and so they didn't want to be around to see what was going to happen between him and Hermione.

"Yes, me," Harry replied, smirking at her.

"It was _Neville_! What could he possibly have done to you?"

Harry cocked a brow, staring blankly at her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Granger."

"Please, Harry, everyone knows it was you and not that silly Marcus boy who did it!"

Harry leaned forth, meeting her eye to eye.

"I was nowhere near Gryffindor House last night," he answered, still smirking at her.

"Prove it!" she exclaimed, and he stood up straight, again.

"Ask Pansy," they all saw it, how Harry glanced shortly in Ginny's direction when he said it, and all around him, the watchers were furrowing their brows. All except Ginny.

"Let's go," Harry finally said, and his three followers nodded, and followed him as he strode past the Gryffindors and into the next corridor. Keegs skipped quickly to his side, quickening his pace so he could keep up with him.

"That Granger girl gets on my nerves; she knows too much for her own good," Harry said to him as they walked, glaring angrily ahead, "If it wasn't for this incident with Longbottom, I'd shut her mouth," he walked a little longer after he'd said it, making room for a long pause, before he, as an afterthought, added: "Permanently."

_...to be continued_


	6. Part 6

**A Series of Very Weird Events**

_Part 6:_

Harry looked himself in the mirror, discontent with what he saw. His head no longer looked like a chess-board, but had turned much whiter than before. In addition, it was smoother than before, even though most of it still stood up. It was like his hair was being torn between two styles and two colours, and he still wasn't sure which would win. He couldn't explain it. No one could explain it. He splashed some water on his face, and stood with his eyes closed as it dried. After a while, he turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom, still in his nightwear.

It was Saturday, and nothing was happening today. Well...he suspected something would happen. Marcus had returned to Slytherin House the night before, and Keegs had immediately pulled him into a room where they could talk in private, away from Harry and everyone else. When they had emerged from the room later, both Keegs and Marcus had nodded at him, and Harry had understood. Marcus had returned to Dumbledore's office this morning to change his story to fit Harry's. It wasn't the best story, but he'd have to believe it when it came right from the horse's mouth.

He came into the common-room; he didn't bother to change clothes. No one would comment on it; everyone was too afraid of him to make any comments. He was getting used to it, now, and was finding fear to be a very efficient tool. Of course, loyalty amongst his followers was favoured. Fear should not have to drive them; loyalty should.

He sat down in his usual chair, which hadn't been sat in by anyone but him since he became a Slytherin, and he stared into the fireplace. He'd have to go up to the owlery, later on. Hedwig had stopped bringing his mail to breakfast. Apparently, so had Draco's. Odd occurrences were happening all over school, but only to him and Draco, it seemed... He didn't feel like thinking of it, and so he instead looked around the common-room for something to occupy his time. It was nearly deserted, and the people who were there weren't making their presence known enough for him to be annoyed by them, and so he decided to ignore them. Luckily, Pansy and some of her friends soon emerged from the girls' dormitory and entered the common-room. Pansy, his alibi after the Longbottom incident. If anyone asked where he was, he'd tell them he was with Pansy in the common-room. It was the middle of the night, but it was believable. They were supposed to be a couple, after all, and Harry had felt that seemed like the kind of thing a couple would do. And if someone asked Pansy about Harry's whereabouts, she would tell them the same. They had the perfect relationship, right now. Distanced, yet it was useful.

The second she saw him, she rushed to his side and sat down on the floor beside his chair and smiled lovingly up at him. Of all the people in Slytherin, Pansy and Keegs seemed to be the two people who were least afraid of him, and so neither Keegs nor Pansy hesitated to approach him. Of course, Keegs was the only one of the two who was actually welcome by Harry. At least he sometimes had something useful to tell him.

"Good morning, Harry!" she said and stretched her neck up towards him to give him a kiss. He turned away, but made it look coincidental.

"Pansy," he said bluntly as a hello, but realized that he couldn't stop there, "Did you sleep well?"

Of course he didn't want to know if she'd slept well, he had no interest in getting that information, but he had to ask. Immediately, Pansy started on a long speech, describing every second she'd spent sleeping that night. She'd only said a few sentences when Harry was overcome by boredom. He would have loved to cut her off, to stop her and tell her exactly how boring he found this tale, but he didn't. She was too useful, despite her obvious stupidity. She worked wonders on his alibi, for instance. He couldn't risk offending her until this business with Longbottom was over. He knew Longbottom wouldn't tell them who had been involved; he had seen to it before they left Gryffindor House that night, when he'd cast a curse on him that would remove his memory for at least five hours prior to the incident. He'd cast the same curse on the Fat Lady before they left. There were no ties back to him, if only he could keep Pansy on his side. And that meant listening to her excruciatingly boring stories. And so he kept listening to her, wishing that something would happen to cut her off...

"Harry," a voice from behind his chair said, and he turned to see Keegs standing there.

"Keegs," Harry answered, "Good. Do you have any news for me?"

Keegs nodded, and Harry smiled. He smiled, because this meant he would be able to get away from Pansy and her mindless blabbering, and that was all he had wanted. As long as he didn't have to stay in the same room as her for too long, they could be a couple. Pansy was his alibi when he needed it, but his interest in her ended there. She was someone to make a statement in his favour whenever he should need one, someone who could get him out of trouble without having the faintest idea about what kind of trouble he was in. A stupid girl who would stand by him no matter what he did, because she was too dim-witted to find out. She was the perfect girlfriend.

He turned towards her, putting on his best disappointed face, and stood up.

"Excuse me, Pansy. I have to go talk to Keegs. It's important."

Pansy nodded vigorously, remembering the last time she had interrupted one of his important conversations. She didn't really understand this with Keegs, however. He was a silly fourth year, and Harry had never spoken to him before in his life; in fact, she had never actually noticed Keegs before, and especially not around Harry. It was like he had been invisible for the past four years, and only now had come into the light. She couldn't for the life of her remember ever having seen him around school, before...

Harry left her and walked into the boys' dormitory with Keegs, wearing a content smirk across his face.

"Your timing is impeccable, Keegs," Harry said as they entered his room and sat down, "One more minute, and I would have had to endure listening to everything that twit had to tell me."

"Yes..." Keegs replied, hesitating for a moment before he continued. Keegs had a strange way about him; some annoying personality traits Harry didn't much care for. Actually, he didn't care for them at all.

"I've been in touch with Marcus. He's told Dumbledore about his alleged crush on Parvati Patil, and how the painting of Gryffindor common-room was revenge for her having turned him down. Apparently, Dumbledore believes it, but that is according to Marcus. I expect they'll want to talk to you about it, and Pansy as well, since she's the one providing you with an alibi."

"Don't you think I know that? It was my plan, after all; I've already thought of all of this."

Keegs didn't answer. Instead, he just sat there, staring at Harry. Suddenly, Harry felt extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't have time to comment on it, as the door suddenly burst open, and Nott ran pale-faced into the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

"You'd better get out there, Harry. Snape's here, asking for you. He doesn't look happy, Harry. He doesn't look happy at all."

Harry furrowed his brow, but got up and moved out the door with Keegs and Nott following right behind. True enough, when he reached the common-room, there was Snape, wearing one of his sour expressions. This time, however, Harry felt he looked angrier than he usually did.

"Follow me, Potter," he said once he saw Harry standing in the doorway, "You and I are going to have a little chat."

* * *

Snape slammed the door to his office shut behind him as Harry walked to the chair in front of his desk and sat down.

"I did not tell you to sit down, Potter." Snape said, and Harry shrugged.

"No, but I did it anyway," Harry answered, smirking.

"I don't appreciate your cheek, Potter," Snape replied and walked to the fireplace, turning his back to Harry, and stared into the fire.

"Which one? The left or the right?" Harry grinned smartly, and Snape turned quickly towards him.

"You will not talk back to me, and you will refer to me as 'sir' or 'professor'."

Harry turned to him, cocking a defiant brow at him as he looked him in the eye.

"Or perhaps it should be you who refer to me as 'sir', _Professor_."

The anger in Snape's eyes faded, and he regained his cool demeanour as he walked slowly to behind the desk and sat down, never taking his eyes off Harry.

"Your arrogance will be your downfall, Potter; the same arrogance you practiced in Gryffindor House two days ago."

"I wasn't in Gryffindor House two days ago," Harry replied, meeting Snape's frosty gaze with an almost equally cool one, as they attempted to stare each other down.

"Did you think yourself clever when you left that message? 'Greetings from an old friend'? Did you really think I would be fooled by it?" Harry cocked a brow, and his answer echoed inside his mind. _Yes..._ Snape lifted his chin; apparently, Harry's expression said the answer his vocals did not.

"I didn't leave that message," Harry said, leaning back in his seat and making himself comfortable. This could take a while.

"No, of course, Marcus Glist did. The 'old friend' of Gryffindor House. Tell me, where exactly were you while he was leaving this message?"

Harry smirked and cocked his chin towards his teacher, knowing now that he had the upper hand. He had an answer, he had an alibi. He wouldn't be expecting this.

"I was in the Slytherin common-room."

"Prove it," Snape answered with his lips bordering on a smirk.

"Ask Pansy. She was with me."

Snape was quiet as he leaned back in his seat, studying Harry for a moment while he considered his answer.

"Is she willing to give this story to the headmaster?" he asked after a short pause, and Harry nodded in reply, "Very well. Leave."

"What?" Harry asked, staring at Snape in disbelief.

"That will be all, Potter. You may leave."

Harry cocked a brow, and slowly rose from his seat.

"You could have asked me this in Slytherin House, instead of dragging me all the way down here. Next time you decide to waste my time for no apparent reason, you can..."

"Mind the arrogance, Potter," Snape interrupted, and Harry immediately stopped talking, "It will be your undoing."

Harry stared at Snape for a moment, while he turned to some papers on his desk and started ploughing through them, paying him no heed as he stood there. Finally, he turned away and left, slamming the door behind him as he exited the office.

"Undoing," he muttered as he walked down the hall, glaring at the empty corridor that stretched out ahead of him, "Insolence will be _his_ undoing."

* * *

"There is something seriously wrong with this," Ron said to Hermione as they arrived for dinner in the Great Hall and sat down. She turned towards him, and then followed his eyes to Slytherin table, where Harry now sat alone. People were shying away from him, sitting at least three chairs away from him. Crabbe and Goyle were those sitting closest to him, and they were half turned away from him, almost like they were afraid of looking at him. Harry glared from side to side, diverting stares with each glance. Some people still had the audacity to look at him, it seemed. Ron turned back to the table just as food appeared, and he started eating right away.

"I know," Hermione answered, still looking in Harry's direction, "He's turned against his own, now. He's getting worse. Ron, we have to find out who's doing this now, before..." suddenly, her voice faded as she stared in Harry's direction with a confused look in her eyes. Ron glanced at her, and decided from her expression that it was time for a small break from his eating.

"What?" he asked, and turned around to see what she was looking at.

"That boy," she said and pointed at Keegs, who had entered the room a moment earlier and was now taking a seat across the table from Harry, "I've seen him with Harry before. Who is he?"

Ron thought about it for a moment before he answered, somewhat hesitantly at first.

"I think...James, that's it, James...Keegs. He's a fourth year."

Hermione furrowed her brow and studied the pair. Keegs was sitting on the chair across the table to Harry's right and leaning halfway over the table while he said something to him. Although Hermione was too far away to hear them, she knew they were whispering, she could tell from the way Harry was listening. She hadn't seen him pay this much attention to anything other people had to say in a long time.

"He wasn't one of Draco's..."

Again, Hermione's voice wouldn't carry her query, and she was instead left sitting with her brow furrowed. Ron, who had already turned back to his food, now found that he had to stop eating once more to find out what was troubling her this time.

"Hermione, can't you just..."

"Shush," Hermione quickly interrupted and held up a hand to stop him as she kept staring at Harry. Rolling his eyes, Ron turned around and saw...Harry and Keegs, still sitting there alone.

"Hermione, what..." he started, but she cut him off again.

"Dobby!" she exclaimed.

"What?" Ron asked, confused, but she didn't answer. Instead, she gasped while looking in Harry's direction, before getting up and leaping forth. Ron swirled around in confusion, watching her as she sprinted towards Harry, who was lifting a piece of chicken towards his mouth. He didn't notice her until she was nothing but a few steps away, and he dropped the piece of chicken in surprise as he quickly got up. Ron rose from his seat, as did just about everyone else in the Great Hall, and watched the sight in amazement as Hermione threw herself halfway over the Slytherin table, grabbed the piece of chicken Harry had just been holding and darted out of the room, through the mass of hysterically laughing students. Harry was left in confusion, staring at the retreating form of Hermione Granger until she had left the room, at which time he barked some orders at Crabbe and Goyle, who immediately got up and ran towards the door.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, before he also set after Hermione and the two goons, who he suspected had been sent to catch her. Just as he was about to leave the room, he glanced back at Harry, who was now sitting down with an angered expression in his face, and at Keegs, who was looking frantically to both sides. When his eyes met Ron's, however, the frantic expression faded, and was replaced with a glare, before he sat back down and turned back to Harry. Furrowing his brow, Ron sprinted out of the Great Hall, setting after Hermione and her two pursuers.

* * *

Wheezing, he ran down the hallway, on the brink of giving up his search for Hermione. He had lost Crabbe and Goyle a few halls back; they had given up the search long before Ron had. Now he stopped, leaning forth and steadying himself by grabbing his knees as he desperately tried to regain his breath. He had not had time to draw even two breaths before hasty footsteps coming towards him caught his attention.

"Ron!" Hermione's voice said, and he looked up to see her walking towards him with quick steps, "There you are! I've looked everywhere for you!"

"You've looked?" Ron exclaimed and stood up straight, "You've had me running up and down hallways after Crabbe and Goyle for the past half hour!"

"Crabbe and Goyle?" she asked, seeming confused, but suddenly the confusion left her face, "Oh, them! I lost them before they'd even started chasing me. Now, come on, I have something to tell you!"

She grabbed his hand and started pulling forward, but he shook himself free of her grasp and stood his ground determinedly.

"Not until you tell me why you behaved like a total lunatic in a Great Hall," he said firmly, and she tilted her head to the side and studied him for a moment, "I mean...if you were that hungry for chicken, there was more than enough at our table!"

"Oh, Ron!" she exclaimed in an annoyed fashion, "I wasn't going to eat it! I just wanted to keep Harry from eating it. Come on, I'll explain on the way."

Again, she grabbed his hand and started tugging, but he didn't move.

"What? You wanted to... What?"

Hermione sighed and stopped moving, turning to him again.

"It's Dobby!" she exclaimed, but Ron only furrowed his brow in reply, and so she sighed again and continued, "Dobby put that piece of chicken on Harry's plate, I saw him do it! Don't you see? The chicken was poisoned! That's why he's behaving like this; it's the chicken! That's where the Personovo Potion is, and Dobby's the one giving it to him."

"What!" Ron exclaimed, "Dobby would never do that to Harry! Hermione, you know he wouldn't!"

Again, Hermione sighed and shook her head at him.

"He wouldn't do it on his own, no. But maybe under the influence of the Imperius Curse..."

"Someone's making Dobby poison Harry!" Ron shouted, and Hermione shushed wildly at him.

"Ron, keep your voice down! We don't know who is behind all this, it could be anyone! Whoever it is could be right here in Hogwarts; they could even be listening to our conversation!"

Ron quickly covered his mouth with his hand and stared at Hermione with a terrified look in his eyes. When he removed his hand, his voice was lowered to a whisper.

"Do you think it could be Vol...Vol...You Know Who?" he asked, lowering his voice even more as he spoke the last three words.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was," she immediately answered, and Ron nodded, raising his eyes from Hermione to a point behind her. Suddenly, he issued a loud squeak and stared right ahead. Hermione didn't turn to see who it was, but she knew soon enough.

"Mister Weasley, Miss Granger," the voice of Professor McGonagall sounded from behind her, and Hermione slowly turned and faced her, "I believe this a matter to address the headmaster with, don't you?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, Ron panic-stricken, but Hermione calm, and Hermione was the first to turn back to the Professor.

"Yes, Professor."

* * *

Professor McGonagall led them up the stairs to Dumbledore's office and towards the door. From inside the office, they heard loud, angered arguing in a man's voice. They could tell it wasn't Dumbledore's, however. The second McGonagall heard the voice, she picked up speed and nearly leapt forth to knock on the door. The arguing came to an abrupt halt as soon as the knocking sounded, and was replaced by the sound of quick footsteps approaching the door. It opened quickly and revealed that Dumbledore was the opener, while Professor Snape stood in the background. He started moving, pushing past Dumbledore and McGonagall, and casting Hermione and Ron an angry glance before he left the office. Ron and Hermione turned and followed him with their eyes as he walked out the door, and their eyes remained on the door after he was gone.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, shifting their attention from the door to him, "Miss Hermione Granger and Mister Ronald Weasley. I was wondering when you two would pay me a visit. Alas, it seems you did not come to this conclusion on your own."

He glanced at Professor McGonagall before he looked back at the two students, and they both turned their gazes away in a slightly embarrassed way.

"Come in, come in," Dumbledore continued, as McGonagall ushered them both through the door, closing it behind them before Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and kept talking, "I take it you have something to tell me?"

Hermione and Ron turned to each other, and Ron shrugged. Hesitantly, Hermione turned back to the headmaster.

"Well...yes, Professor," she answered, "It's about Harry."

"I thought so," Dumbledore interrupted and helped himself to some Lemon Drops in a bowl on his desk, "Please, have some Lemon Drops. They're delicious. And sit down, you don't have to stay on your feet."

Hesitantly, Ron and Hermione's eyes met again, as two chairs moved across the floor and stopped behind them. They both sat down and took some of the candy. Dumbledore smiled at them, putting one of the Lemon Drops into his mouth before he kept talking.

"Now, what have you found out about Harry Potter?" he asked, and Hermione drew a deep breath.

"Well, Professor... I think there might be a possibility that someone has, maybe, been feeding him, and Draco Malfoy, food containing Personovo Potion."

When she was done talking, Professor Dumbledore nodded understandingly, and brought his hand to his face, obviously turning the information around in his head.

"I see," he soon said, "And what makes you say this?"

"I've suspected it ever since Professor Snape mentioned the potion in one of his classes..."

"Professor Snape, you say?" Professor Dumbledore interrupted, suddenly sounding surprised, and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, Professor. However, he didn't finish the class, it was very odd... But I decided to learn more about it, and I've discovered that Harry and Draco have all the symptoms. They've switched roles, they won't face the people that used to be their friends, sometimes they act odd, almost confused, like they don't really know where they are, and it seems that their behaviour is awfully coloured by their opinions about one another."

"I see," Dumbledore repeated after she'd said her part, "And do you have any evidence other than that?"

Hermione nodded, eagerly.

"Yes, Professor. Today I saw...someone...put a piece of chicken on Harry's plate while he wasn't looking, and I've read that if you want to achieve optimal results when using Personovo Potion, it should be inserted into food of poultry before it is ingested. I took the chicken from him before he could eat it, however, and hid it in a safe place."

"Really?" Dumbledore interrupted, "And where would this safe place be?"

Hermione hesitated, but gave him the answer.

"The Room of Requirements."

Dumbledore nodded quickly to Professor McGonagall, and she left the room without complaint. Dumbledore turned back to Hermione and Ron, focusing mostly on Hermione.

"When you say you saw _someone_ put the piece of chicken on Harry's plate, Hermione, who would that someone be?"

Hermione hesitated, but shook her head after a short pause.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I can't really tell. I couldn't see his face properly," she answered, and Ron turned to her with a confused look in his face.

"Hermione, why don't you just tell him it was..." he started, but Hermione turned to him with a shocked expression in her face, "Oh," he continued, "never mind."

"It was who, Mister Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, and under the querying gaze of Albus Dumbledore, Ron faltered.

"Dobby," he answered in a disappointed manner, and turned his eyes to the ground.

"I see..." Dumbledore replied, and Hermione suddenly rose from her chair.

"It wasn't Dobby's fault, Professor! Someone was making him do it, I just know it! I could tell it wasn't him. His eyes...they were completely blank. He looked right at me, but it was as though he didn't see me at all. Dobby would never hurt Harry, Professor, I promise!"

"It's quite alright, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said after her voice had died away, "I am sure Dobby wasn't the evildoer behind all this. It is, however, better that I remove him from his duties until we can, at least, determine whether Harry and Draco are truly under the influence of Personovo Potion, and from there determine who is behind the poisoning. Until then, I believe you two would be safer back at Gryffindor House. I will notify you once we have come to a conclusion."

Ron and Hermione nodded, and they both rose from their seats and turned to leave. For a moment, Hermione hesitated, and turned back to Dumbledore.

"Sir," she started, "do you think it might be...You Know Who behind all of this?"

"I really couldn't say, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded and turned away from him, joining Ron at the door and leaving the office. Once outside, Ron turned smiling to Hermione.

"See? Dumbledore has it all under control. We'll have our good old Harry back in no time, and Draco back where he belongs."

He picked up his pace, leaving Hermione a few steps behind as he hurried to get back to Gryffindor House. Hermione furrowed her brow as she walked down the hall, looking worriedly after him.

"Let's hope so," she answered, and picked up her pace to catch up with him.

_...to be continued_

* * *

**A/N:** So, that's the last part I've actually written of this story, and to warn all of you who follow it, it might be a while until I post the next part, because I'm experiencing a bit of writer's block in these horrible days. But I _WILL_ post more of it! I know exactly how it's going to end. And I would also like to say thank you for the reviews! I love reading reviews, so keep 'em coming! I want lots and lots! grin 


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